


The Council of the Inevitable

by Onlyplatonicirl



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Inktale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Reapertale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Dehumanization, Imprisonment, Leave me alone I'm trying my best, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Timeline, Relationship(s), Shock Collars, Worldbuilding, all the aus, and broken hearts across the floor, no secks, oof haha im just making this so much worse, this is gonna be long, very edgy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlyplatonicirl/pseuds/Onlyplatonicirl
Summary: A hundred years after the X Event, and The Omega Timeline is now the heart of the multiverse. The main goal of the place? To ensure that Error never steps foot inside the timeline, or harms anyone living there.But when Error is suddenly captured and muzzled like a wild animal, things start to spiral out of control, and Ink grows more and more distant. Soon no one is safe, and Error’s life hangs in the balance between those who wish him agony and those whose motives are unknown.(Illustrations by Shimokomoriya on DeviantArt)





	1. Prologue

 

The Omega Timeline.

The heart of the Multiverse. The centerpiece of the realm. The bustling metropolis of a golden empire.

It was there that everyone would congregate from far and wide. Humans and monsters alike were always filling up its busy streets, street vendors selling goods, tourists and those new to the vast multiverse of possibilities regarding the magnificent place with a mix of wonder and overwhelmed terror in their eyes. Guards of every species stood by the streets, and every entrance and exit port was lined with security. Even with the perk of technical nonexistence, it was too risky to let anyone in without a background check, demanding ID, species, and the AU in which they originally came. However, even with the Omega Timeline Brothers as captains of the royal guard, the soldiers still found ways to slack off, whether that was getting pickled on the job, or discarding their stern, brave expressions they were supposed to don and chat amongst each other. It was a frequent thing, and as time went on, the number of times Dream requested to speak with the guards began to decline.

The Omega Timeline, for two hundred years, had been completely undisturbed from all outside forces and was a safe haven for all victims and peaceful residents alike, so naturally, people began to let their guard down. Thanks to Core Frisk, that universe is unique in the fact that it doesn’t exactly have any location. It’s everywhere and nowhere simultaneously, in a state of existence outside of any sort of realm in the multiverse. To get in you would have to be selectively approved to know of its main entrance, which was relocated every other day, somewhere so secure that it’s practically impossible to simply hunt for. And the system seemed to be working, anyway. The whole reason the timeline had been constructed in the first place was to provide refuge and shelter to those who survived HIM and his ruthless destruction. Although soon, one thing led to another and eventually, because more and more timelines began to join in the mix, it was decided that a sort of order was needed - a society to keep things in place. And one place - a sort of capital city - for this new, expanding and thriving multiverse of people. A way to impose the law, keep everyone safe and protect them from those with ill intent. The Omega Timeline was that place.

Because as more and more people came to live in the empty white void of a timeline, the more people began to visit. Homes were built and jobs were created without any supreme governing source besides Core Frisk, trying to keep all the citizens out of trouble. However, it was difficult. A lot of the people who called the Omega Timeline their home were fairly new to the AUs and suffering from severe shock caused from either the knowledge of such countless parallel universes or the grief that made their souls clench when they thought back to the loved ones that were lost to him. It was a lot to take in – and being torn away from your universe and watching your friends and family ripped into bits of stray code did not do good for anyone. Especially the Sanses, who were usually already depressed as hell. Even with the community of people surrounding them, sharing their experiences, this world did not feel like the world that was once lived in. So Ink, the vowed protector of these universes, decided to do them a favor.

A world was built from the ground up, building upon what had already been built there. The power of CREATION allowed Ink to create someplace that felt more like what all these monsters were used to. The white void no longer became a void but a gorgeous, thriving paradise of a city, divided into four major factions: Snowdin Town, The Hotlands, Waterfall, and Newest home. (For the sake of nostalgia, all the original names were kept to preserve the familiarity of the land, even though Ink was itching to give them more... creative titles.) Soon, the universe began to feel less like a prison and more like a true home. Snowdin was a vast crisp and snowy forest, with tall, strong pine trees that never swayed against the occasional wind. The town was peaceful, and you could always smell smoky firewood in the air, and handcrafted spirits from The Flaming Soul (The large-scale equivalent to Grillby’s in the classic universe.) Waterfall, equally as large, was a very popular destination to live and visit among tourists, for its ethereal beauty and tranquility was unmatched. Hotlands is where all the action happened. The Mettatons (Or whichever monster was the showstopper in their own universe) hosted an all-inclusive show where they talked about the news, did skits, and just generally entertained everyone far and wide. Something was always happening over there and you don’t have to look far to find it.

However, if those three-quarters of the realm were big, then the city of Newest Home was even bigger. A beautiful, grand, semi-circle of buildings from twisting, golden skyscrapers to huts with roads weaving in between every structure beautifully stood, never completely quiet. It was here that magic and technology met up with each other in beautiful futuristic harmony, allowing for stunning nightlife. The streets never went dark, and some form of party or event was always held. Rolling fields and hills with gorgeous flowers surrounded the city, and the tallest hill was a popular stargazing spot for couples and friends. It was dubbed “Ebott,” even though the actual Mt. Ebott was ten times taller.

As for the sky? Well, that’s where Ink did all of the work. Stars and strips of milky, nonexistent galaxies were painted across the sky in bold and vibrant hues, resulting in more colors than a viewing of the aurora borealis could offer. And during the day, beautiful cyclones of puffy clouds spun through the air. The moon changed in its cycle every night, and the sun beat down on them during the day almost like the real thing would. The only difference was that each celestial orb was fairly small – only twenty miles away instead of thousands or billions. They were mini orbs of artificial light, and even though the thought of that was slightly depressing, it still did the job that the real things could.

But the most imposing structure sat in the center of the semi-circle, a grand edifice that reflected the starry sky like a clear pond. It was as elegantly constructed as the Taj Mahal, but as tall as the Empire state building, with its massive double doors sitting upon a superfluous number of stairs. It was the Council Building, where the meetings were held, where the galas were hosted. Although a very overwhelming and threatening thing to see for the first, every citizen knew that behind those doors was a benevolent circle of leaders – those who they can confide in when things became difficult. They are the ones who possessed more power than anyone else, even having the Creator within their ranks. They were the Elites, The Angels, willing to protect everyone from harm’s way.

Well, almost everyone, that is.

A lone figure sat underneath a large oak tree atop Ebott, waiting patiently, hiding in the shadows. He sighed, eyes darting around him nervously. No one was out at this time, but he kept stealing glances anyways – he had to be on guard. Intertwining his fingers nervously, he took a deep breath in and drew his gaze up to the stars, trying to relax.

He had always loved the stars. Something about them made his breath hitch in wonder every time he looked at them. Perhaps it was because he had never had the chance to ever really see them in his life – just looking at them now was risky, and if he was caught, there would be major consequences. Maybe it was the feeling of being a small part of something big – a microscopic piece to a beautiful interconnecting puzzle. That probably wasn’t it – he didn’t like clutter, and the universe was filled with it. Then again, he was a mystery and he had come to acknowledge this fact long ago. He would never truly figure himself out.

He took a breath of the cool air and hummed a single note to fill the silence. Well, he tried to hold a single note. His voice ended up curving up and down octaves, like someone who couldn’t tune an instrument properly, jumping from one place to another sporadically. He didn’t mind. He had long been accustomed to the way his voice sounded, so it calmed him more than anything.

Newest Home could be seen from the top of the hill. Lights were on in almost every building, and a faint blur of voices mixed with general commotion drifted up through the wind to meet him. He had never seen the city up close, and he wanted to but was scared. He was promised by someone very close that soon, he could wander the streets without the chance of being harmed or avoided fearfully. That would be the day, wouldn’t it? Besides had been, what, 2 months since he’d done any damage? He didn’t know if he could keep up this “good streak” he was on if he wasn’t getting anything out of it.

He tapped his fingers together anxiously, waiting. He didn’t have a watch with him, so he had no idea how much longer he had to wait. Squinting up at the moon, he attempted to judge its position in the sky. Was it maybe… ten? Eleven? Or did the moon rise in the opposite way, and he was six hours too late? Time was an interesting thing to try and keep track of when timeline hopping.

It didn’t matter. He knew that he had to wait, and then he’d be taken home. He wished they would hurry. His eyelids were starting to get droopy.

“Hey, buddy.”

A voice behind him made him jump. At once he was on his feet, arms out on either side of him, ready to summon an attack at a moment’s notice. It took him a moment to recollect his thoughts and calm himself, watching the figure in front waving their hands in front of their face, telling him to back off. It was hard to see clearly, but that voice was unmistakable. They hid behind the thick tree trunk, putting a finger to their mouth.

“Calm down, it’s me!” said the being in a frantic whisper. He lowered his hands and glowered at them half-heartedly.

“I told them that I needed to leave early tonight, and they didn’t question why,” the mysterious figure said, rubbing the back of their neck. He couldn’t see them too well, but it was obvious they were blushing. Soft misty rainbows began to glow across their cheeks

“Of course they didn’t,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “Naïve, the whole bunch of ‘em, especially that guy Dream. I mean, you could convince him that the end of the multiverse was tomorrow, and he’d go running for the hills.”

“I know, right? It’s pretty funny. Oh, have I told you about the time I gave him a Christmas present signed “Santa”?

“Yeah, you did. When he went around for an hour trying to figure out who Santa was?”

“Yup! The number of times you can pull the wool of that guy’s eyes is astounding…”

“Tell me about it.”

The sound of their faint, obligatory chuckles slowly died away, and the figure behind the tree scuffed their foot awkwardly along the ground, avoiding eye contact.

“So…” they said. “How have you been?”

“Lonely and genocidal.”

He could see their glowing, mismatched eyes do a loop around their head as they sighed, exasperated. “Wow, no drama over here,” they muttered.

“Okay but maybe it’s not THAT bad anymore but – hey!” He was cut off by a high-pitched giggle that made his face flush. God, this was annoying.

“Let’s go inside, I know you’ve been waiting, and I don’t want to stay out in the open much longer. Someone might see us.”

He sighed and took their fingerless-gloved hand. “Fine, whatever. And you’re sure your place is hidden from Core Frisk’s sight?”

The gloved fingers tightened around his. “If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here, silly! Let’s go.”

He grumbled and with a silent flash, both disappeared, leaving the hillside empty, the only sounds being the whistle of the wind through the tall grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I actually going to write a novel-length thing on Errorink?
> 
> ...
> 
> I mean, yeah, probably. I don't have anything better to do, anyway.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council has a small meeting, discussing some rather concerning reports.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say that all the characters in this story are owned by other people. I will not be implementing any OCs, because I'm really freaking uncreative. If you wanna know who they are, then look 'em up.
> 
> Also, I'm trying my best to keep this story as canon as possible. No funny business.

Ink straightened his sash as he walked down the golden, shimmering halls. Employees and assistants passed him on his way across, greeting him with respect, in which he gave a cheerful hello to in return. If there was anything Ink knew, it was that kindness went a long way, and that every monster and human in the building worked hard in their specific field.

The only time the council hall was empty was at night, when the artificial moon rose high in the sky and everyone went off to sleep, ready for another day of chaos. _It was always chaos,_ Ink thought to himself, narrowly avoiding a Papyrus with an armload of objects Ink didn’t recognize. He was probably part of the department which specialized on magical artifacts, Ink mused.

He had no idea where that building was located. Hell, he even lost his way to the meeting hall occasionally, and he was the one who built the darn place! The hallways were tortuous and seemingly endless, bigger on the inside than the outside. The day he had learned to create things with larger interiors than what was physically possible given the volume of a room, was one of his proudest moments, and was eager to showcase it in the building of the Council Hall.

_Maybe I went a little too far in its design,_ Ink thought as he watched longtime workers scratch their head in confusion, staring at the directory on the wall in reverence.

Lost in his thoughts, Ink accidentally collided with an Alphys, scattering her papers and knocking her to the ground.

“Ow…” Ink groaned, rubbing his cheek. After the initial shock faded away, he turned his attention to the ground. Miscellaneous charts and graphs with lots of text were scattered around the two of them, and the Alphys on the ground was pushing herself up to a sitting position.

Ink began to apologize profusely, bending over and stacking up her papers. “I’m terribly sorry, miss. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He gave her a small chuckle and gave her a guilty smile. She adjusted her glasses and waved a hand.

“No no, it’s fine. I-I wasn’t watching where I was going e-either…” she said, getting to her feet. As Ink finished gathering up her papers and mentally scolding himself for being so careless, she chased after another paper that had flown farther away from the rest.

As she went for it, Ink took a moment to acknowledge her appearance. She looked a lot like the classic Alphys, except she had a slightly rounder snout and brown rings around each spike that protruded from her head, along with brown circles on her jovial cheeks. Ink’s memory may have been poor, but when it came to the AUs, he could recall things fairly well.

“You’re from GZ tale… right?”

The Alphys nodded. “Yup! I may not be a ‘royal scientist’ any longer, but I still find data analysis a respectable job, hee hee…”

Ink gave a chuckle right alongside hers and spoke up to make awkward small talk.

“So… how are your friends and family?”

She adjusted her glasses. “They’re doing alright. It will take a little while for them to fully… a-adjust…” She trailed off uncomfortably. “Sans… er – I mean _Ganz_ , hasn’t been doing well since the death of his brother. Things had just started looking like they might take a turn for the better when that demon broke in…”

Her glasses became misty and Ink immediately regretted his question. GZ!Tale had been one of the universes to fall victim to Error, and before any reinforcements could arrive to stop him, the majority of the entire universe had become bits of stray ones and zeroes, floating around in a barren void. When they had finally driven him off, only a few souls remained: Alphys, Undyne, Sans and a handful of civilians they had tried to bring to safety.

“R-Right… I offer my condolences to you all,” Ink said, avoiding eye contact and readjusting his scarf. The Alphys lifted her glasses and wiped her teary eyes, wearing a sad smile.

“Don’t apologize, Ink. You saved us. Without you and your friend Dream, we wouldn’t even be here today! It’s all thanks to your efforts that we’re still alive and breathing, heh… and I’m forever in debt to the council because of it.” She grinned and gave Ink an awkward little side hug.

She began shuffling the papers back into their correct order. “Speaking of, I-I was just coming back from the Meeting Hall. These sheets are actually compiled lists they sent me out to make sense of.”

Ink gave a little squeak of terror and GZ Alphys paused to look at him peculiarly. Was he really _that_ late! No wonder he thought the sun looked brighter today!

He did a little panicked dance where he stood before collecting himself and sprinting down the hall. He called behind him as he dashed, his words slurred together in haste, “It was nice talking to you, Alphys, let’s catch up later!” Although with how fast he spoke and how noisy the hall already was, he was almost sure she didn’t make out a word of what he had just said.

Everyone who saw Ink run down the hallway like a rabid track star simply rolled their eyes and went back to their business. Ink was always late. For some time, he had been showing up at every council meeting almost a full half hour late, despite his promises to try and make it on time from then on out.

Ink finally came to the grand doors that held the conference room, the two dog guards stepping aside once they saw who it was. The doors were grander then all the others in the building, with spiral and square shaped patterns all the way down the edges, wrapping all the way along the large handles. However, right before Ink could lay a hand on them, the doors opened on their own accord, sending Ink straight onto the ground. He landed flat on his face and a small grunt of pain escaped him with the contact and heard the sound of glass and wood tink against the tile floor.

His art supplies. All over the floor. _Wonderful._ He just sincerely hoped that none of the vials on his sash had broken, because he’d feel bad for the janitor that has to mop liquid sadness off the floor. He slowly pushed himself up, tilting his head to look at those in front of him.

The round table stood before him, polished to a shimmering, lustrous golden. It was wide enough to where one could fit forty people in total around its edges, but there were almost never that many people in the room at one time, save for the dinners that were sometimes served. The rest of the room was even more formal than the table, with bits of artworks, woven tapestries, and other assorted beauties hanging from the walls, that had been collected over the years, from different places. But now, nobody’s eyes were on such ornaments. They were all on Ink.

Dream exhaled loudly as his friend came through the door. It was completely typical of the creator to behave in such an uncouth manner on the regular, but today seemed special, for he had even forgotten the doors are automatic. Reaper, who paused his constant texting spree to look up at the bumbling mess that was Ink, blinked at him, snapped a photo, and went back to being occupied with his smartphone. Core Frisk, who sat in an “elevated chair” a whole foot higher off the ground, began to giggle, and Reapertale Toriel, or Life, stifled a laugh at the sight of her friend in disarray, soon out of her seat to help him stand once more. She knelt down before him and offered a large paw, which he happily took. His face was completely flushed with embarrassment.

“Thanks, Life,” he murmured, glancing down at the ground while he picked up his scattered supplies. He settled on shoving the miscellaneous tools in a small pouch, deciding to organize them later. After he composed himself, he shambled over to his seat right next to Dream.

Dream smiled at him. “Friend, are you ever going to come in on time? I can’t keep saving your seat next to me if you don’t…” He trailed off playfully, before his eyes went wide.

“Oh, Ink, I wanted to show you – what do you think of my new gloves?? Cross gave them to me, and I think they’re lovely.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and flexed his fingers. He was wearing fingerless gloves, similar to Ink’s, however these ones went halfway down his forearms and were dandelion yellow. Bubbly patterns lined the back of his hands and trailed down to the end of the glove. Being the artist that he was, Ink noticed they were approximately 2 shades off from Dream’s cape, which he had obviously tried to match the gloves with, but Ink didn’t have the heart to tell him that.

“They’re wonderful, Dream,” Ink said, happy to see his friend so enthusiastic. Dream’s positivity had a way of spreading to everyone in the room. When he was excited, the feeling was infectious, and anyone who had previously been having a bad day felt their spirits lifted. Perhaps it’s who he is, or perhaps it’s his physical magic, Ink didn’t know. All he knew is that Dream could make anyone smile.

“Are we going to get back to business?” a deep voice said, interrupting their conversation. The two looked to the center of the table, from where the voice had spoken and smiled sheepishly.

Ink raised a hand up to draw attention to himself. “Hey Alch!” he said innocently. “Wassup? Sorry ‘bout being late again… y’know, I’m a bit of a sleepyhead. And my job is pretty tasking, so I kinda need the rest, I’m always –“

“Enough with the excuses Ink,” said Alch, pinching the bridge of his nose and adjusting his oval-shaped glasses. “Look, I’m not upset, but could you at least… set an alarm or something?”

Ink nodded with a cheerful hum of agreement to show he was listening and Alch sighed, drumming his phalanges on the table impatiently. He knew he would have this exact same conversation the next time a meeting was called.

Reapertale Gaster, better known by the nickname “Alchemy”, was probably one of the oldest timeline traversing beings in the known multiverse, before Ink and Error. Of course, no one could hold a candle to how long Core Frisk had been roaming the multiverse, but Alchemy was a close second. He had been pulled from a timeline in which Reapertale Chara was never his end, but where he had thrived and grown from his mistakes. His knowledge and experiences were beyond valuable. He had researched, studied and experimented on everything the multiverse had to offer, and with the almost unlimited power he held he was able to execute all of his seemingly unfeasible ideas. With his ingenuity, his generosity and unparalleled curious nature, he was a prime candidate to help lead the Omega Timeline, and therefore the multiverse, into peace and order. Core Frisk, the one who had presented the multiverse to him and had gained his partnership through the centuries, was a big proponent of placing him in charge as the “epic supreme leader of the whole entire multiverse.”

They all settled for a sort of democracy.

“You just missed our daily report,” Alch continued, sighing. “If you haven’t noticed, the stats are usually the least important parts of the meetings, and therefore I always put them first. Because I know you’re going to be late, and _THIS_ one is not going to check into the conversation until someone forcibly snaps his damn phone in half.”

He gave a pointed glare at Reaper, who kept tapping at his screen with his thumbs, and not even acknowledging Alch’s words. Alchemy grimaced at his son and snapped his fingers irritably. Soon, the smartphone was encased in starry purple magic and slowly began to drift out of Reaper’s hands and into Alch’s. Reaper whined and started grasping at the space where his phone had suddenly disappeared from.

The God of Magic squinted down at the screen and poked at it with his index finger. “Son, is this what you look at all day? How do you even read off a screen this small?” he muttered. Eventually he shrugged, and with a flash, the phone disappeared.

“You can have it back once the meeting is over. But Ink is here now, and this is important.”

Reaper grumbled and looked away. “Shoulda stayed home with Geno…” he started to complain when Alch cut him off.

“Anyways, now that we’re at a quorum, I think it’s time we talk about the real reason we were assembled today. These reports have been growing, and I’m starting to feel concerned that we may have an actual problem. Once I discuss this with you, I will take this news to the others, and then decide if we’re willing to publicly share it. However, I am not the one who collected the data, and I’m sure Dream will have more to say on the matter. Dream?”

Dream nodded and straightened up, speaking with confidence and puffing up his chest. “Right. As you all know, the Omega Timeline was discovered by our dear compatriot Core Frisk, for the sole purpose of protecting those who lost their original AUs. At first, it was nothing more than a white empty void, but it did the job. Back then the Genociders had not surfaced yet, and they were not a threat that we were worried about. So, what was the problem we were trying to avoid? The Destroyer. Error.”

He did a panoramic sweep of the table, making sure everyone was in consensus. Life nodded gravely, and Core Frisk made a sour face at the thought of someone like Error. Alch looked at the tabletop in thought, looking like he wanted to say something, but didn’t wish to interrupt Dream’s speech.

“We all know who Error is. A pathological killer, who believes he is in the right by committing mass genocides, saying that everyone, with the exception of the original timeline, is a ‘glitch’ and needs to be wiped out because they ‘weren’t supposed to exist in the first place.’ His LV is absolutely outrageous, and the amount of power he holds is unmatched. If he were to get into the Omega Timeline, he could wipe out everyone easily, and there would be little we could do to stop him. He sees the world in terms of ones and zeros, so hiding from him is useless. He can sense disturbances in the code.”

Dream took a deep shuddering breath before continuing. “We’ve tried to make contact with him, to reason, to beg, to _plead._ But it doesn't go through. He will stop at nothing. And when he’s bored, he tortures his victim’s broken bodies, making them his sick, twisted puppets. I’ve heard a claim from someone in a universe lost to him that while he was decimating their town, he came across a brave civilian who stood in his way, and instead of immediately dusting her, he popped off her limbs one by one, relishing in her screams until he finally-“

“Excuse me, Dream,” Ink said. Every head in the room turned to look at the Creator in shock. Ink was looking at Dream with an expression they had never really seen him wear before. His face looked stony and emotionless, yet obvious anger could still be read.

“What has this got to do with anything? We get it. Error’s the bad guy, I’m sure we _ALL_ know that. Now, do you think you could actually get to the point you’re trying to make?”

The room went completely silent and Dream stared at his friend, actually looking genuinely offended for a second. But then he cleared his throat and the uncomfortable moment passed.

“R-Right. That was just a claim, anyway. There isn’t really any solid evidence to support that but, uh… anyways whatever. Back to my point. My _point_ is that we all know who Error is, and what he’s capable of. The whole purpose of the Omega Timeline is to keep. Him. OUT. But lately… that seems to be a problem.”

Dream motioned for Alch to give him the stack of papers in front of him and he complied, using a spectral, disembodied hand to carry it over. Dream accepted it and the astral projection vanished. The papers were then laid out across the table while Dream looked them over.

“These are all reports, filed by citizens of Newest Home, and all of them detail sightings of Error in the Omega Timeline.”

The hall went dead quiet. No one dared to breathe as they all stirred in the dreaded thought that the Destroyer had found a way inside this sacred place. If he discovered a way in, well, then they might as all start writing their wills. However, that would be pointless, as there would be no one left to pass on their belongings to. Everyone and everything would be gone, brutally destroyed in a gleeful rampage of Error’s. Then the multiverse would be a place as bleak and silent as the Anti-void.

Life was the first one to break the disturbed silence. “Surely this is not true. If he had already found a way inside the timeline, then we wouldn’t still be here right now, or he would have made some sort of attempt to rid us, don’t you think?”

Alch shook his head solemnly. “I am not sure. The Destroyer is something of a wildcard; His next move can never really be predicted. As Dream mentioned, there are absolutely awful stories about him and the gory atrocities he has committed for amusement, but then there are also stories I’ve heard, where he spared an entire AU because someone from there had given him a cup of hot cocoa.”

“That was Candytale.” Core Frisk said blatantly, speaking for the first time since the meeting started. “He went back and mercilessly demolished it exactly three weeks later.”

“…I see…” said Life, trying to take it all the information she was given in. “And what about all of us? Could _we_ not stand up to him?”

“We could,” said Dream. “And there is a small chance we may be victorious. But Error is extremely crafty and manipulative. Some of the monsters and humans he has pulled from various AUs he has turned into a sort of, “mindless army” if you will. He wipes their memories blank and controls their every move like a puppet master. If he were to raid the Omega Timeline, he’d bring more than himself. Knowing him, he’d probably let the Genociders in as well, to “speed up progress” or something stupid like that, and then probably kill them off once the work was done.”

“Such maleficence…” Life said, almost as if she couldn’t believe the words coming out of Dream’s mouth. “Who is he, anyhow? Where did he come from? I don’t believe I have been told.”

Dream closed his eyes. “We… don’t know. The running theory is that he must have been knocked from his original timeline somewhere or came from an AU where everyone looked as he did. But no records of such an AU exist, so the first option seems to be the most plausible. But all we know for fact is that he came from the Anti-void, and he’s a killer.”

Everyone nodded at the undisputed facts Dream put forth. Core Frisk, whose shoulders barely went past the table, gave a little ‘humpf’, like they were determined to stop them.

Alchemy gently put his hands on the table. “The reason this meeting is so small is because I do not want to start a panic before there is a reason to. Do not repeat what you have heard outside of this hall, understand?”

“Can I tell Geno?” Reaper asked, with his feet crossed on the table. He was wearing black and white checkered Vans, brand new from the look of it.

“No, you may not tell Geno,” Alch said, putting his head in his hands

“Can I tell Cross?” Dream asked hesitantly. “He’s head of my guard, and I think it would be important for him to know of any incoming threat…”

“Fine, Cross is an exception, but -“

“Alchemy, don’t you think the people already know about this?” Life interrupted. “If the people who reported seeing him have told their friends, then news should have already spread around the-“

Alchemy held up both hands, calling for silence, which was immediately received. “Listen to me, please. I am well aware the citizens may already be in a small panic but hearing it from their ‘government’ would only amplify the chaos. We must dispel their fear, not increase it. Bringing these sightings to official public to light would only make matters worse.”

“Right, that makes sense.” Dream nodded, looking steadfast and serious. “One thing I would like to address, however, is Ink’s opinion on all of this. Ink?”

Every head turned to the creator, who had been strangely quiet throughout the discussion. They had expected him to do most of the talking, as Error was his greatest nemesis. There was not a being in the multiverse who was not informed of their rivalry, and to the massive wars they waged when they ran into one another. One would create, one would destroy, and as such, they were always balancing each other out. But lately, Error’s power had seemed to grow exponentially. All the LV, all the HATE in his soul, it all seemed to be catching up to him. Ink began bearing witness to things he didn’t think was possible for Error to do, like phasing through matter, manipulating memories, cloning duplicates of himself in battle. And more times than not, Error would emerge victorious from their skirmishes. As such, Dream became concerned when his friend contributed nothing to the conversation, instead of typically ranting and raving like he had done so in the past meetings.

_This is probably a hard topic for him,_ Dream thought to himself. _I won’t press him too hard._

“Ink?” Dream repeated. The second time his name was called, Ink’s eyes turned to focus on Dream instead of on the table to show he was listening, but no other part of him moved. After a couple seconds of silence, Ink finally spoke, carefully bringing his hands up to readjust his scarf.

“I’m just wondering why you guys haven’t brought up the fact that not for two months has he made any sort of advance on any of the timelines in the multiverse.” His voice was devoid of its usual peppiness and energy. Now he sounded slightly on edge, and a little bit annoyed. “All you guys have been talking about is the evil he’s caused, but are we not going to notice the fact that he’s been off the grid completely since May, save for those ‘sightings’ which probably are just the overworked imaginations of people who don’t get enough sleep.”

The entire hall went silent. This was not the sort of reaction they had been expecting at all. Almost every meeting Ink had been to, he would almost go out of his way to slander Error’s name, but now, he seemed quieted on the subject. Almost angry when they brought it up. It made Dream concerned for what his friend was going through.

“Are you… trying to _defend_ him??” Dream asked incredulously.

Ink blinked, as if he were trying to process a response. “Of _course_ not,” he finally said, clearing his throat and straightening himself up. “Why would you think something like that? You know who he is, and you know who I am. Do you _really_ think I’d defend a sociopathic murderer like him? He’s my arch enemy and will remain that way until the multiverse collapses.”

“Then what…?”

“I was simply stating facts,” Ink said, giving his scarf another tug. “I’m not making it up. He has been nowhere to be seen lately except for these probably phony reports.”

Life spoke up. “Ink… don’t say things like that… if these reports are accurate then we should not disregard them.”

“I do believe Ink makes a good point,” Alchemy stated, his voice calling everyone else to full attention. “The Destroyer has been dormant for approximately two months now, longest he’s ever gone without trying to raid or demolish some sort of timeline. Normally, this would be very good news, but mixed with the recent sightings, I’m afraid this might spell something grave.”

Dream inhaled sharply. “He’s plotting something. I know it. Cunning and fearsome, he will use every trick in the book to get what he wants. I think he’s got some stunt up his sleeve, _something_ he’s waiting to pull on us. He’s hiding in the shadows for a reason.”

“To prepare, perhaps?” Asked Core Frisk. “My omnipresence is limited when it comes to the Anti-void. Just like the Omega Timeline, he seems to have complete control of who gets in, who gets out, and where it’s accessible. How he got into the Omega Timeline, I have no idea, but I would like to say that even though I have not seen him directly through any sort of means, I will confirm that there have been some unusual disturbances within the timeline. I didn’t want to bring it up, because I felt that I was probably just being paranoid, but now that we’re talking about it, I think it would be good to mention. It was the nagging feeling that something is out of place, that something’s not right. I believe that that trigger was Error’s presence.”

“Then it’s settled,” Alchemy declared, putting his hands on the table. “Security will be increased in the timeline by at least twice its normal size, and I want Core Frisk to be constantly monitoring every square inch of this place, so nothing slips from their sight again, and Ink and Dream –“

He turned and looked at them with proud eyes. “Keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. If you two _ever_ come across Error, in any sort of way, I want you to do your best to immediately strike him down. This will be disclosed from the public until I give further notice. However, those who filed the reports must be notified of our response, so they do not think we are being idle fools on this issue. Does everyone agree with the rules I’m laying down?”

Everyone at the table nodded in response, and Ink smiled gently. “Yup… I’m gonna kick his glitched hindquarters the next time I cross paths with him… If he messes with the people I care about, well, I’ll have something to say about that!” He grinned and winked enthusiastically, throwing an arm around Dream. Dream rolled his eyes in response to Ink’s behavior, gently pushing Ink’s hand off his shoulders.

“Thank you, friend. I appreciate your kind words.” He smiled, and Ink grinned back at him.

Reaper, who had been off daydreaming in the corner, stood up and stretched, cracking his joints obnoxiously loud. “Alrighty, Error’s cookin’ up a scheme, we’re all terrified, yadda yadda yadda. Meeting adjourned, or whatever. Can I have my phone back now?”

It was easy to miss, but Alch’s lower eyelid twitched. “You don’t _have_ to be here, you know.”

Reaper looked at him, eyes half closed and shrugged. Alch waited a few more seconds for more on the matter but that was all his son provided him with.

Life raised a paw. “Alchemy, do you think it is worth noting that Reaper does have a kid at home… perhaps you should let him go. I know that Geno is away right now, so Goth’s been in Papyrus’ hands. I think he’d want to check up on his son.”

Reaper looked up to his father pleadingly, switching his eyelights on for a more desperate effect. Eventually Alch sighed. “Fine. But I’m _only_ doing this because he’s my grandson.” Alch tossed Reaper his smartphone. “And here’s your dastardly device. We’ve gone over all the important stuff, anyway, so I guess you can-“

Alch looked to his side and noticed he was speaking with empty air. He drew in an agitated breath. “… leave.”

Life giggled. “You know your son can’t stand the meetings, Alchemy.”

He rolled his eyes. “He couldn’t make that clearer to me if he tried. I’m just hoping that eventually, he’ll realize that he is extremely gifted and powerful, and I hope that he puts those powers of his to good use. Not everyone is given a seat here.”

“We know,” said Ink. He giggled, although Dream noticed it wasn’t as sincere as it usually was. Something was bothering Ink, but he made a show of being as cheerful as he always was. But Dream could tell the difference. He could see the shift in Ink’s aura. It was filled with doubt, dread, and a little bit of love, circling through the clouds of negativity. Dream wanted to say something but held his tongue. Now was not the time.

The five of them continued to talk for a while, about the developments of the new AU that appeared on the eastern sector of the multiverse: QuantumCross and the contact they’ve made with them, the growing business of tourism in Outertale, and how an underground cult of Error worshipers was found in the middle of a ceremony and arrested. Throughout these less serious topics, Ink’s aura went back to it’s usual happy and supportive feel. Any suppressed disquiet he had been experiencing before had been lost to Ink’s usual demeanor.

_Perhaps it was the conversation about Error,_ Dream thought. Everyone knew that the Destroyer had been giving Ink a hard time lately. Ink still considered him a friend, even though the council knew they had only amicably spoken to each other a few times. Error was a haphephobic narcissist and generally did not get along with other people very well. Even though Swap Sans, more commonly referred to as Blueberry, claimed Error was friendly enough to him while he was held captive for over three months, there was a fainter glow in his starry eyes that said otherwise.

Plus, Ink took very harshly to people being displeased with his help. Ink was always striving to make others feel safe and welcome, and when he would fail at his job, he would retreat into his living quarters for days. Dream knew from personal experience how sad he could be. He had gone over to comfort his friend once to find ever slot in his sash filled with a blue vial – Ink had been _making_ himself cry. He went through something similar when Error had once cussed him out of the anti-void. Ink felt he had failed at becoming Error’s friend, although Dream had to reassure him he didn’t need someone as heartless and cruel as Error as a friend to begin with.

Maybe that’s what he was thinking about when he had been fogged over with anger during their conversation. Maybe he had been thinking about the time Error had driven a bone right through his ribs when they fought over the fate of Rosetale. Or maybe… he was thinking about Error as someone who has a chance of changing. Someone who could draw himself out of the lonely bleak hole he’s put himself in and realize that the AUs are something to marvel at, instead of wipe away like an infectious germ. That would be Ink, hopelessly confident in his abilities to right the wrongs of the world. It would be-

“Dream?”

Dream pulled himself out of the rabbit hole of thoughts he had gotten lost in and returned to the present. “Oh, yes?”

Alchemy adjusted his small eyeglasses. “What do you think?”

Dream looked down at the table anxiously. “Um… I-I agree?”

Alchemy raised a browbone. “You agree that humans besides the Frisk and Chara variables of each universe should not be allowed a place in the Omega Timeline?”

Dream squeaked in the realization that he had said something rather bigoted without paying attention. Ink snorted with laughter while Dream tried to compose himself. “N-No… _everyone_ should be welcome here, even the humans from the surface that didn’t play a part in the freedom of monster kind. I-I mean unless you’re a _Genocider,_ then…” he sighed. “I’m sorry Alch, I kind of spaced out.”

Alch gave him a small comforting smile. “It’s quite alright. I can see glazed eyes from everyone in the room right now. We’ve been talking for quite a while, and I’m sure you’ll be happy to know I think we’ve covered just about all urgent matters this session. Does everyone agree? Or is there something else that we should talk about before we disperse?”

No one spoke up, and Alchemy nodded. While neatly stacking the numerous papers in front of him, he summoned an astral hand and gently rubbed Core Frisk’s back with it, trying to rouse them from the quick nap they had decided to take on the table. When they lifted their head, some form of drool was going down their chin and their bangs were frizzled.

Life chuckled at the sight. “Well, I think Frisk here has said it all. Shall we retire?”

Dream and Ink nodded and slipped off of their seats, while Core Frisk slowly clambered down from theirs, mumbling about how much they missed. Alchemy took their small hand in his larger one and led Core Frisk out of the room to their quarters. “I’ll see you all soon,” he said over his shoulder, smiling as he exited through the double doors, “It was wonderful catching up with you all.” He gently shut the door behind him.

Ink cracked his knuckles and yawned dramatically. “Alrighty, I’m on the verge of falling asleep. Dream? How about you?”

Dream giggled and summoned a brown coat around his shoulders, lined with white fluff on the interior. “Yeah, I’m rather fatigued myself. I was up all night helping Cross with this speech he has to give to one of the schools in the Swapfell AU about responsibility, and all. So far, progress on reforming that AU seems to be going really well. I think they’re learning that violence isn’t the only means in which a society can run, now that they’ve seen all the other timelines getting along peacefully.”

Ink smiled. “I’m so glad. You’ve been doing an excellent job in improving the lives and living conditions of all kinds of folks from harsher backgrounds, Dream. You have so much kindness in your soul to give, and you never run out of patience. Even with a thousand vials of raw patience, they’d all be drained in less than an hour if I spent half as much time as you do volunteering at all the elementary schools!

A bright golden blush came to Dream’s face at his friend’s words, and half of his head disappeared in the collar of his fluffy coat. “Well, I mean… my entire life’s purpose is dedicated to making people happy… so…”

Ink gave him a small punch on the arm and laughed. “You’re adorable Dream. Hey, I gotta run some errands before I get home to the boys. We’re still up for Saturday, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” said Dream happily, slinging a small grey bag over his shoulder. “Tell PJ and Gray I said hi!!”

Ink smiled and shot his friend two finger guns before turning to skip towards the doors. It was then when Dream remembered he had something to talk to his friend about.

“Wait… Ink? Can I… talk to you for a quick second?”

Ink’s eyelights changed to question marks as he stopped his walking and spun to face Dream. “Yeah?”

Dream approached Ink tentatively, twiddling his thumbs. “Are you… okay?”

Ink tilted his head to the side, curious. “Of course I am… where did this come from, Dreamy?”

Dream rolled his eyes at Ink’s nickname, then looked at him with a serious expression. “While we were talking about the sightings of Error, you seemed… uncomfortable. Touchy and aggravated. Your aura was… negative. That’s not very usual for you. So… were you okay? Did you maybe take the wrong vial before the meeting?”

Ink was quiet for a few seconds with no discernable emotion expressed on his face. However his serious silence was soon gone, and his ever-present smile came back to him. “No, of course I didn’t. You know I’m always very careful when it comes to vials. And… I’m sorry I was so moody, heh. I don’t think I got enough sleep last night, I was busy with…” he stopped talking abruptly and looked to the floor. “…painting. And art stuff. Y’know, yeah.”

Dream nodded. “You shouldn’t stay up so late drawing, Ink. I know how much you love it, but sleep is important too.”

Ink scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah… I’ll try to turn in earlier. Okay, so um, thanks Dream! You’ve been a big help, but I gotta-“

_“Ink."_

Dream grabbed the Creator by both of his shoulders, forcing him to make eye contact. The gold crowned skeleton looked Ink directly in the eyes with a stern expression that was rarely present on his face. “ _Are you okay._ Your anger seemed to be directly correlated to the topic of the Destroyer.”

Ink gave an exasperated sigh and gently took Dream’s hands off his shoulders. “Okay, maybe the topic had me a little irate. I still feel like we could be friends, and I don’t like it when people just label him as one thing and one thing only. He’s still an individual, and with enough time I think we can bring out the good in him. He’s so lonely in that horrible place, the anti-void. It’s so… _empty._ It makes me shudder every time I go there. But, anyways, I know he’s an absolute menace. It’s just that… there’s this small part of me that hopes he can one day come out of his shell if we all give him a chance, you know?”

Life, who had remained in her seat, scribbling words on a sheet of paper, paused her busywork to listen in to their conversation. Dream regarded Ink’s words with a sense of sadness.

“Ink, you know who I am. There is _nothing_ I’d love more than to give people infinite chances to start over again. Just look at Cross! He used to be on Nightmare’s side, but once he was finally shown the kindness he deserved, he became someone else entirely. But… I don’t think these rules apply to Error. He has shown time and time again that he is interested in nothing but the mass murder of everything in his way, until he achieves his goal. Total annihilation of the wonderful society we’ve worked so hard to create, and then…well, s-suicide. We’ve tried to reach out, but all he does is push our offers of peace away. And he’s killed… so many people Ink. _So many._ With the Level of Violence he possesses, higher than all the Genociders and council combined, I don’t even think it’s possible for him to even feel love at all. His soul has become hungry for nothing but dust.”

Ink drew his eyes to the floor and took a long shuddering breath. He looked up to Dream and gave a smile too wide to be sincere.

“Of course. I know that Dream. I’m just being silly again, you know me.” He reached out and gave his friend a quick hug, squeezing him tight. Drawing back rapidly, he tried discreetly to brush his finger across his eye, but Dream noticed. He was _wiping away tears._

“Anyways, I’ve got to go! Lots of things to do!” He laughed and wheeled around, borderline sprinting towards the door. “Goodbye Dream! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Dream reached out with a hand. “W-Wait Ink I-“

_Slam_

Dream trailed off when the door was shut, lowering his arms and rubbing them anxiously together. He hadn’t moved from where Ink had left him and turned his gaze to the floor.

Life noticed his behavior and abandoned her work to calmly walk to him and put a large paw on his back. “Friend, is everything alright? You look troubled.

Dream took a big breath in then exhaled, saddened. “I’m fine, but I’m afraid I don’t think Ink is.”

He turned to her. “Life… something’s wrong, I-I saw something… when he hugged me, he had…” he trailed off uncomfortably. “I didn’t _say_ anything because I was already in shock from the unexpected hug and he exited too quickly for me to speak up.”

Life knelt down, so she was eye to eye with him. “What did you see?”

Dream’s eyes darted around the room before finally landing on Life’s. “There were, he had…”

Dream tilted his head to the side and patted his neck. “On his neck. There were… these big circular bruises. It was all across the side of his neck, completely black and blue. Is he… do you think he’s being hurt?”

Life did not know how to respond to that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Y'all already know what's going on. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments on Chapter 1! Reading every single one almost caused me seizures of happiness :)))))


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paperjam is loud and Gradient plays Fortnite. That's literally all that happens in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's incredible how many products I mentioned in here. I should get sponsored tbh
> 
> Also come say hi to me on my Tumblr, under the same username! I would love a friend!!

__

 

_“Tell me.”_

_“Wh-What do you wanna know, boss?”_

_“… What do you think I want to know, you pathetic piece of shit?”_

_“Um… well… There really isn’t that much to say. I can’t get any important, tactical information – I’m not allowed to access the building.”_

_“Can’t you disguise yourself easily?”_

_“Yes, but the guards-“_

_“No buts. I expect something noteworthy from you the next time we talk, or else I might just give that human soul to someone better suited to the job. Or better yet, take your disgusting, slimy corpse and feed it to the mongrels.”_

_“…”_

_“Heh. You’re so easy, you know that? Easily swayed with the promise of a soul in your hands. When’s the last time you’ve properly been fed?”_

_“… I dunno…”_

_“You wanna change that, don’t you? Do you want the soul? Then you better get out there and start gathering intel. This raid can’t wait forever. We are so close to achieving victory. Our army is strong enough. Theirs is weak enough. You do the math, leech.”_

_“… don’t call me that.”_

_“I’ll call you whatever I damn please, capiche? Now… do as I told you. That’s an order.”_

_“…”_

_“What’s the holdup, idiot?”_

_“… but what if I- “_

_“What? What is it? What sort of garbage excuse will come out of your mouth this time?”_

_“Ink would never forgive me if I did something to hur-“_

_“Ahahahaha! I knew it! You’re getting attached to them, aren’t you? Those revolting little do-gooders, those sappy hypocrites… Listen to me, and listen to me well. You are not there to make friends. You are not there to play dress up, or have a good time, or make people smile. You are not one of them and you never will be. Always remember that. You are a disgusting, soul-sucking, mindless, bottom feeder of a creature, and your only mission there to report back to me. You are on my side. My minion. Got it?”_

_“…”_

_“Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you UNDERSTAND?”_

_“… yes. I understand. I’m sorry, boss.”_

_“Good. Now go back to their stupid Omega Timeline. Play with all your little ‘friends’. You’ll get your reward if I’m satisfied with the information you bring back to me.”_

_“Okay. I won’t let you down, N-Nightmare.”_

_“Excellent.”_

 

 

 

 

\----------~*~*~----------

Ink’s house was big.

He does possess the power of creation, after all. It’s no surprise that his residence would be one containing lavish amenities and elegant architecture. But still, calling his house big was an understatement, calling it massive was still subpar. Even gigantic didn’t quite accurately describe the house.

But the words _absolutely colossal?_ It was enough to suffice.

Five stories of grand bedrooms, furniture, maze-like hallways and a different piece of artwork on every wall, Ink’s house was the apex of the artistically advanced. Different rooms gave off different vibes – walk into one, and you’ll feel like you’re in 17th century England, walk in another, and see live fish swimming through the walls. On the bottom floor, there was a ballroom/dance floor so large it could probably pack half the city inside, where Ink threw a lot of parties and get-togethers. “Just like Mr. Gatsby!” He had once said, drawing a comparison to a character in one of the classic human novels he had read. Paintings, sculptures, and all other forms of art were set up down the hallways, and through the various rooms. The second floor was for the living spaces. Comfortable rooms, chairs plusher than what would seem possible, and bathrooms that looked like they could be houses on their own, lined in white marble. On the third floor, you couldn’t go more than two feet without tripping on a paintbrush – that whole level belonged to the kids, and boy did they make a mess of it. All of the walls were scribbled on, and toys, books, and game remotes lay scattered on the floor, along with pretzel crumbs. The fifth floor was an overhead deck with a grand swimming pool that dipped over the side of the house and connected to the base level courtyard by some impossible feat of magical ability. It was a good place to get some sun, or just take a deep breath of fresh air.

But the fourth floor? It belonged entirely to Ink. It mostly consisted of his grand bedroom, a bed the size of someone’s room, with stuffed animals of every color and species piled on the fluffy covers. He tried to keep his room in order, he really did, but he would either forget to spend a few minutes tidying up, become preoccupied with something more important, or just lack the energy to do so. It was a tedious process, tidying up, and didn’t have the time for something like that. And besides, he had a _system_ , dammit. How is he supposed to find all of his stuff if it’s in the right place?

He thought about this in the whole five seconds it took him to teleport from the council building to the front door of his house. Lately, he had been accepting an… “outside help” to get himself organized and wasn’t sure if the system they had set up was working. It was too… linear. Too perfect, and it unnerved Ink how flawlessly his pens lined up in rainbow order on his dresser. He wasn’t even sure if he actually wanted his pens organized or an excuse for the one responsible to come over more often.

Ink groaned as he rapped on the front door (one of the front doors, anyways) and waited for a response. When nothing happened, he walked a couple of steps to the doorbell, carved into the side of the wall. When he pressed it, the button changed colors and a symphonic melody mixed with a techno beat ran throughout the entire house, echoing across the yard. It was good that his place was on the very outskirts of the Timeline because if he had neighbors, they probably wouldn’t appreciate the raucous and ridiculous sounds that rang from his house.

The Guardian tapped his foot impatiently and knocked on the door again – no response. He drew his mouth into a fed-up grimace and began to dig through a satchel on his waist, eventually pulling out an extremely bizarre-looking key, the item not even looking remotely close to what a normal key would look like. Cautiously, he slipped it into the center of the door, the key phasing through the solid object like a stick in a pond. The massive blockades rippled like Jell-O and swung open by themselves, allowing Ink to enter.

No one had come to meet him at the door. His eyelights changed to red and green question marks as he cleared his throat, impatient.

“PJ! GRAY! I’M HOME!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. When he still got no response, he became concerned. He quickly walked the length of the 17th-century palace hallway, humming to himself and loving the sound that his voice would make, bouncing off the marble pillars. He was at the very least, expecting a sort of shout from one of the rooms, but no response met him. Ink quirked his mouth into a confused frown and strode briskly up to the elevator on the side of the wall. Ink had designed it to be powered by nothing but magic – no cables or cords, not even electricity. His creative advancements kept building in skill every day, and he had come so far since the first thing he had ever created: a lopsided looking flower, which was put on grand display in the entryway.

Ink stood idly in the elevator for about half a second, until the doors slid open, accompanied by the sound of a wind chime. He began to make his way down the hallway, trailing a finger along the drywall and watching the paint change color. He had made the third floor, in his opinion, the funnest floor in the house. He couldn’t stand the thought of raising kids in a mundane household, where rules were strict, and manners were important. Even though he still would sometimes berate his kids, for the most part, he left them to their own devices. They were old enough to take care of themselves, and Ink didn’t want to enforce too many restrictions on them. After all, the most important thing to get out of life was fun!

“PJ? Gray?” he called again. There was no response and Ink rubbed the bridge of his nose. The door to PJ’s main bedroom was shut closed down the hall. The wood was painted with pictures of flowers and rainbows, the paint coming alive and seeming to sway in an imaginary breeze. A sign hung near the top of the door completely written in crayon, reading:

 

 

_Paperjam’s Super Amazing Bedroom!! :D_

_DON’T COME IN UNLESS YOU’RE ON THE PRE-APPROVED LIST_

|

|

V

_Mom (Needs to knock first)_

_Gray (Only if he doesn’t sTEAL MY GLUESTICKS AGAIN)_

_Palette_

_Goth_

_Fresh!!!_

_That soft little cat that likes to sleep on the porch_

_Dad (maybe)_

 

Ink tried to pay little mind to the last option on the list and knocked on PJ’s door, just like his son always wanted him to. “Jammy? Are you in there?”

There was no response. Not to Ink at least. He heard muffled noises from the inside of the door. Curious, he pressed the side of his skull to the door to get a better listen.

“Aha! I win!” a small, enthusiastic voice cried out. Ink immediately recognized it as PJ. He sounded absolutely ecstatic.

“What??” a second voice chimed in. “No way, dawg! You’s cheatin’, I’m positive!”

Ink sighed and rolled his eyes. As if the outdated lingo was any clue to who else was in PJ’s room.

A thump was heard as PJ giggled. “Hey!! You can’t do that! Here, here. Start over, okay?”

Fresh laughed. “Alrighty, but ya won’t pull any tricks or I’m gonna hafta throw ya down!”

The smaller skeleton blew a raspberry. “Good luck, buttface!”

Fresh gave a highly exaggerated gasp. “Bro! That’s some unrad vocab you got there! You better tone it down a notch, ‘fore you get sent to the slammer!”

Ink could hear PJ literally dissolve into a puddle of hysterical laughter and smiled. As odd and annoying as Fresh could be, he could make PJ laugh like no one else could, and in a way, Ink was grateful for that. Ink was always busy, protecting and creating universes from destructive forces, and didn’t often have time to spend with his family. Gradient didn’t mind – the kid liked being on his own, but PJ was different. He needed attention, someone to talk to, a friend. And even when Ink could spare a couple of minutes, he knew his lack of real emotions didn’t make the cut, compared to all of his son’s other friends. And because someone like Fresh, so full of energy and jokes and color, would be willing to spend time with PJ really meant a lot to Ink.

PJ slowly pulled himself together. “Stoooooop! We gotta start!”

“Alright, alright…”

There was a little bit of rustling around through the door for a few moments, and Ink could hear the crinkle of a few plastic bags.

For a few moments it was quiet, causing Ink’s brow to furrow in confusion.

Then PJ spoke, breathlessly, his voice low. “… are you ready?”

Fresh didn’t respond for a few seconds, and more rustling was heard from behind the door. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be, dude.”

Another silence, and Ink became increasingly worried. When Fresh and PJ got together, there was no way to make them quiet. But now it was like someone had died, their voices more serious than anything Ink had ever heard. He cautiously put one hand on the doorknob, just in case.

“Ready…”

“Set…”

More rustling, and Ink gently turned the doorknob.

And then PJ let out a deafening shriek. “GO!”

More noise suddenly came from PJ’s room than Ink had ever heard in his life. There was crunching, growling, smashing, tearing and shrieking. It sounded like a stampede of elephants suddenly burst through their room and trampled the poor souls to death. The cacophony immediately rendered Ink completely terrified, and he slammed open the door as fast as he could.

“WHAT IN THE –“ Ink trailed off in surprise and the ruckus immediately ceased upon his entrance.

There, in the middle of the room, were PJ and Fresh, on opposite sides of each other, sitting crisscrossed on the floor. In between them was a massive bowl of snacks and candy, so full that even without touching it, Ink watched little pretzels tumble off the sides. The pink carpet they sat on was completely covered in crumbs and soggy puddles soaked into the fibers, which Ink assumed was soda, judging by the definitely-more-than-thirty cans in the corner. Bags of chips and cheese puffs lay scattered all across the room, completely empty. But that wasn’t even the best part. PJ and Fresh sat completely frozen, not daring to move a figurative muscle in Ink’s presence. Both of their mouths were puffed out and full, crumbs falling down their cheeks. PJ’s hand was motionless in midair, holding a massive handful of the bowl’s contents. He looked to his mom with big sparkly surprised yet guilty eyes, and Fresh’s glasses, which he never took off, read “OH NO”.

Everyone sat in shocked silence for a good fifteen seconds before Ink cleared his throat, crossing his arms. He glowered at the troublemakers.

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” He asked with the tone of voice that meant PJ was most definitely probably going to get grounded.

“ERMMM…” was Paperjam’s response, slowly dumping the treasures in his hand back into the bowl. He chewed a couple of times, his cheeks still stretched out to their limits. Ink looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Wm wermf afim a na-“

“Please swallow PJ.” He shot a pointed glare at Fresh. “And you too.”

Both took another minute to chew, and once PJ managed to swallow down his ridiculously large bite, he spoke.

“We were, uh, having a… snack competition? Whoever ate the most snacks in one sitting without stopping… um… wins…”

He trailed off uncertainly with Ink’s mildly angry eyes on him. Luckily Fresh made an attempt to save the situation, clearing his mouthful of snacks. “Yo, we were just tryna have a lil fun. No harm, no foul, homie!”

“Well I think there is harm, and there is a foul. PJ, you are going to get sick tonight, you know how you feel after a lot of junk food. And Fresh, I thought you were the adult here!” Ink retorted, watching both of them shrink into each other out of shame.

Fresh adjusted his multi-colored baseball cap. “Ta be fair bro, we were totes gonna clean the room ‘fore ya came back, spiff it up a lil maybe?” He lazily popped a bubblegum bubble while he spoke, which was rather odd, because Ink didn’t think he actually had gum in his mouth.

The Guardian of the AUs sighed and dragged a hand down his face. Why would he even _consider_ calling Fresh an adult. The 150-year-old 90’s nuisance of an outcode was a bigger child than Ink’s _actual_ child. Well, at least it kept PJ happy.

Ink hated giving punishments, he really did. The only times he really laid his foot down is when the kids did something dangerous, or something that could harm them. He wasn’t an irresponsible parent, (Stars no, he loved his kidlings with his entire metaphorical soul) but he didn’t want to get in the way of their fun and creativity. They were old enough to handle themselves.

So, after standing in the doorway and mumbling to himself for half a minute he gave PJ a weary look. “Alright, you two. You can have your fun, but I expect this room to be _spotless_ by the time I come back, you understand. And if PJ comes to me crying and begging for Pepto Bismol I will place one hundred percent of the blame on you, Fresh.”

Fresh raised his hands defensively and smirked nervously. “It’s all chill, broski. Got it taken care of! Your lil’ man’s totally straight up ‘n chill wit me!”

Ink gave the two of them an exasperated smile. “PJ, do you think you could get your brother for me? Tell him I want him to come over and say hi to Mr. Fresh. Has he come out of his room all day?”

PJ shrugged, wiping at the ring of Cheeto dust around his mouth. “I dunno. Haven’t seen him.”

“Well, knock on his door, would you?”

PJ nodded and stood up, dusting the crumbs off himself and walking backwards as he left. “Just so you know, Fresh, this minor interruption will not hinder my victory!! Muahaha!”

He turned and bolted down the hallway, Fresh blowing a raspberry as he ran. Adjusting his glasses, Fresh sat up and dusted himself off in turn, flashing a gold-toothed grin at Ink.

“Yo! What’s goin’ on, homeslice!”

Ink covered his mouth with a hand. “I don’t think it will ever not be funny, hearing you talk like that…” As an afterthought, he added, “dawg.”

To his surprise, Fresh grimaced. “ya don’t say it right, bro. Just, don’t try, cool?”

“…Okay then…?”

“Sweet!” Fresh crossed the room, straightening his blinding neon colored jacket. “Thanks for lettin’ me chill wit your lil man. He’s a real rad dude!”

“Oh, no problem! He loves having you over, anyway. He always talks about all the little gifts you get him and the fun things you two do… “

Fresh scratched the back of his neck, his text on his glasses reading ‘AW WW’. “That’s real sweet of him…”

Ink quirked his mouth into a small smile. “He really wants to make you happy, Fresh. I’m glad you two became friends.”

Fresh gave a toothy smile, and the two lapsed into silence. Fresh was the only survivor of the universe ‘Freshtale’, and as obnoxious and weird as it was, the residents didn’t mean any harm to anyone and were pretty nice people. But the peace didn’t last long, because the overwhelming amount of positivity soon drew in Nightmare and his group of goons, who tore the entire place up, dusting and torturing everyone there. Surprisingly, Error didn’t play any part in the destruction of that universe. Fresh Sans was the only one to make it out, by some miracle, and even while living in the Omega Timeline, he seemed to be indifferent. He would always be smiling, and it kind of creeped everyone who would talk to him. But befriending PJ brought more than a permanent grin to his face but a genuine grin, and it overjoyed Ink. Everyone deserved a smile, brought on by real emotions instead of a façade.

Fresh broke the small silence, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “So like – what’s been all up ‘n happenin’ up at your shiny council hall? I don’t really folla those snoozers ya call politicians, man.”

Ink shrugged. “Oh, nothing interesting. Just making sure the multiverse doesn’t run completely unchecked and crazy, you know!” He gave a small laugh. “But for real, it’s been… pretty boring. There’s nothing exciting happening. I’m almost hoping some new threat will arise, just so I can get that adrenaline pumping again! I haven’t used that vial in a while…” There was absolutely no way the news about Error could reach Fresh’s ears. That would spell nothing but disaster.

The neon-clad skeleton shrugged. “Eh, fair enough, bro. To many of deez peaceful times can get straight up slow and borin’. You gotta get some drama goin’ and the tears flowin’ to _really_ spice things up a lil bit. You sure there ain’t any juicy bits o’ info that you’s hidin’ behind ya back?”

Ink was about to comment on Fresh’s last statement, feeling slightly perturbed at his pushiness, when PJ came back, pouting. He crossed his arms angrily and stuck out what could be called his bottom lip.

“Gray won’t come out of his room! He says that he’s busy.”

Ink turned his attention back to his son. “Oh yeah? And what’s he doing?”

PJ rolled his eyes so far back into his head it looked like his eyelights had gone out. “Playing that one video game that you keep telling him to stop spending money on.”

Ink took an exasperated breath in and turned to leave. “It was nice to catch up with you Fresh. Thanks for, you know, actually asking how my day went because literally, nobody does that haha.”

“No problem, mate!” Fresh clicked his tongue and shot the Creator two finger guns. PJ giggled and mirrored him.

“Alright you guys, clean up, and PJ, I want to see you and Gray downstairs for dinner at 7:30. Fresh, you can go home if you want, or you can join us. It’s up to you because I have plenty of ravioli packets.” Now that he thought about it, Ink wasn’t all that sure where Fresh actually stayed but decided it didn’t really matter.

Ink returned their enthusiasm in a little parting message, before turning into the hall. He approached Gray’s door and knocked on it. Gray had chosen a more technological vibe to his room. Straight lines either horizontal or vertical ran up the sides of his door frame, with small circles at the ends, trying to make it look like a circuit board. It had worked, too. The patterns would shine and occasionally create a spark of electricity that danced across the painted wire. The sight made Ink smile. His little aspiring artists were so unique and creative in their own way!

He slowly opened the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Gray had made it very clear multiple times that he hated surprises, and Ink tried to respect that. The room was dark, and the streak of light from the hallway cut across the blackness, marking the floor with a glowing stripe. Ink gently closed it behind him and soft blue light washed over him.

The light from four computer monitors was the only illumination that the room had. Colors of browns and greens washed over the screen and made interesting patterns, revealing the mess that the rest of the room was. The being operating those four computers was sitting comfortably in a red and black striped office chair, his skull barely reaching the halfway point of the chair. No other noise could be heard but the mashing of plastic buttons against a game controller, and the small amount of sound that leaked through his bulky headphones.

Two of Gradient’s tongues poked out between his teeth as he dodged his virtual character around bullets, returning the fire with some of his own weapons. With a quick flick of his joystick the character he was controlling looked through the scope of his sniper rifle and shot a figure straight in the head, causing the body to fall to its knees and disintegrate.

Ink slowly approached his youngest son, taking care to step over his Legos scattered all over the floor, and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. Gradient jumped and spun around to face the owner of the hand, but that momentary distraction allowed his character to be shot through the chest, with a notification that he had been “eliminated by ‘DankVader86’”

Gray took his headphones off in irritation. “Mom!” He shouted. His two little mismatched eyelights, faintly glowing in the dark, looked at Ink with anger.

Ink was immune to this kind of behavior. Not because he was a patient parent, but because the vials necessary to deal with this sort of situation were running low.

“I thought I told your brother to come get you, Gray.”

The smaller skeleton growled. “I said I’d come out when I was done with this game!”

“Can’t you pause?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t pause online video games?!?”

Ink didn’t say anything, fumbling around. “Looking at a screen in the dark like that all day will strain your eyes, bud.”

“I don’t technically even have eyes?” Gray said, looking a little perplexed. “What, did you read an article about that in a parenting magazine? Those apply to human eight-year-olds, not timeline traversing magic immortal skeletons.”

Again, Ink didn’t respond to Gray’s attitude and finally found what he was looking for – a light switch. He gave it a casual flick and the cluttered room was illuminated. Gray immediately squinted his eyes and threw his face into the crook of his elbow, grunting.

The room looked absolutely disastrous. Action figures, computer parts, Lego pieces, and clothing almost added a second carpeting to the ground. Gray’s bed, tucked away in the corner of the room, had so many dirty clothes piled on it it was a wonder how the kid managed to sleep there. Ink couldn’t tell whether the smell was coming from his unwashed shirts or the plates of old food sitting on his desk from nights passed.

“Geez, Gray… your room is a wreck.”

The skeleton in question swiveled his chair around to look at Ink. Now that Ink could actually see him, Gray was as big of a train wreck as his room. The kid wore a grey t-shirt, probably picked up off his floor and an old pair of sports shorts. On his head he had a small blue beanie. The bags under his eyes were absolutely horrendous, belonging more to an eighty-year-old war veteran rather than a fifteen-year-old. Ink was immediately concerned and rushed over to him. He licked his thumb and started rubbing at Gray’s cheek, where he had a little mystery stain against the bone.

“Gray! Take care of yourself! You’re a mess!”

Gray wiggled and squirmed in Ink’s grasp. “Ew! Mom, that’s disgusting! I don’t want your spit on my face!! Go away!!”

Ink didn’t relent and only stopped when whatever was on Gray’s face was gone. He finally stood up and Gray made an over exaggerated retching noise.

“Excuse me!” Ink said defiantly. “With the way your room looks you’re hardly in a position to judge!”

Gray pouted angrily and tried to wipe his cheek with his sleeve. Ink looked at him, slightly disappointed.

“Gray, I’d absolutely love to leave you to do your own thing, but if you can’t take care of yourself, I’m going to have to do it. Do you /want/ me to put those parental controls on your computer??”

All the color drained from Gradient’s face. “You wouldn’t dare…” he whispered, horrified.

Before Ink could continue to rebuke his son, Gradient put his brave face back on. “And besides, I’ve only done this for like - a few hours. I did some more productive things. I updated my blog, I practiced my shading skills with a YouTube tutorial… Oh! I also made myself pizza pockets.”

Ink was silent. “How is the last one an accomplishment?”

Gradient shrugged. “I did it myself, that’s why.”

A small ping noise was heard, and the younger skeleton whipped his head around so fast his neck could have snapped clean in half. A little notification had appeared in the bottom right corner of the bottom right monitor. His interest in Ink was completely forgotten as he gave a few excited scooches, jerking his chair into the desk again. He leaned in and giggled at the screen.

Ink’s curiosity was immediately piqued, and he peered over the excessively large swivel chair. “What’s got you so excited?”

Gray rolled his fingers over the red ball resting in his plastic computer mouse, clicking on the popup and replacing one of the monitors with a chat chain rather than the Fortnite lobby. A small message was visible, the time stamp proving that the text was recent. It simply read.

**@Razorknightly:** yo you up

Gradient eagerly clacked away at his keyboard, sending a message in response.

**@77Digiglitch77:** ya. what up

An animated ellipsis appeared in the corner of the screen, showing that he was typing back, and Ink interjected. “Who are you talking to?”

Gray made a noise demonstrating how fed up he was with his mom asking so many questions. “I met him on Minecraft. We play games together sometimes. It’s none of your business anyways.”

The stranger finally sent out their reply:

**@Razorknightly:** im still mad about that stupid ass that called me a thot when i headshotted him like is he self entitled or wut little btch

“He looks very eloquent and insightful.” Ink commented. “Who is he? Does he live in the Omega Timeline?”

Gray shook his head, embarrassed with the unexpected comment. “No, he’s human and lives in the UK. I don’t remember which timeline, but I don’t think there are any monsters on the surface in his universe. For all he knows I’m just another human kid his age playing video games. I told him I was from America or something, to sound less suspicious. I’m thinking that if he sees my real face though, he might like… freak out and stuff. I don’t wanna lose a friendship.”

**@77Digiglitch77:** haha he totally pwned u XD

**@RazorKnightly:** u didnt help!!!!!

**@77Digiglitch77:** I was busy picking up mats

**@RazorKnightly:** shitty excuse

**@77Digiglitch77:** suck an egg

**@RazorKnightly:** eat a pencil

**@77Digiglitch77:** u kno my brother eats crayons lmao

**@RazorKnightly:** SRSLY HOW OLD IS HE??

**@77Digiglitch77:** He’s 28

**@RazorKnightly:** JKSADLJDKSLDSK HWAT

**@77Digiglitch77:** He says the colors taste different

**@RazorKnightly:** BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAAHA

**@RazorKnightly:** ...

**@RazorKnightly:** u wanna play a game with me? It’s 12 AM here and I can’t sleep. I just rlly wanna talk to u dude.

Gradient looked up at Ink with big, puppy eyes. “Please?” he whined. “It won’t take long, and hey! I’m making friends! You always want me to make friends, don’t you?”

“Friends _offline._ ” Ink grumbled, but regardless sighed. “Alright. Play your last game and then you’re heading downstairs. I don’t want this to take any more than fifteen minutes.”

The little turquoise squares on his cheekbones glowed faintly and he smiled, adjusting his matching glasses so they fit more comfortably. “Okay, thanks mom love ya, bye!”

“Yeah yeah, But I will check to make sure you did your homework, and tomorrow I’m gonna set a limit for two hours. _Max_.”

“But I thought you said I could take care of myself!”

Ink shrugged and shot him a smile. “You’re obviously not, so I’m going to have to do it. Bye! Have fun with your friend!!”

The creator slipped out the door and shut it behind him before his son could protest. He was… making friends? Human friends, but friends no less. He supposed he should be proud - Gray was never one for socializing. The kid usually spent all of his time drawing on his little tablet or playing video games. Well, he was still doing that, but now that he’s got a friend with him while he does, maybe it would be a little different.

His train of thought was derailed when a screech came from PJ’s room, followed by mass amounts of giggling and a canister of paintbrushes flying out of the doorway so fast it could have been shot from a canon, slamming hard against the drywall, making a dent. It was followed by a chant from both of the room’s residents: “Death to yell-ow, death to yell-ow!”

How was PJ the older one again?

\----------~*~*~----------

Fresh had decided to stay for dinner, (under PJ’s threat that if he didn’t, he would never be able to “touch the inky blob on my head ever again!!!!”) The meal went somewhat smoothly, Fresh doing tricks with the ravioli Ink had cooked, like popping it in his mouth and then shaking it out of his eye socket, still not taking his glasses off for the whole show. Ink didn’t know how he managed to do that, but it definitely impressed PJ and Gray, so he let them watch, enthralled and demanding more tricks. By the time he left, Ink had to keep both his kids from stuffing pasta up their nasal cavities. No one was choking and dying on his watch.

At 8:30, Ink told the kids goodnight, telling them not to stay up too late before dashing up the stairs without another word. Gray tried to follow him to his room, but Ink vehemently insisted that he needed to spend some time to himself. He had been doing that a lot lately. And Gray had taken note of it.

The brothers watched a couple of episodes of a cartoon series in the movie room before the two of them said their goodnights and headed to their respective bedrooms. PJ changed into a fluffy pink onesie, brushed his teeth, and then climbed into circular bed. The small skeleton laid on his back, stuffed animals crowding around his skull like an adorable halo as he gazed at his ceiling. He had painted his bedroom ceiling with the beautiful colors of a sunset, so that every night he could drift off, with a beautiful, pastoral setting drawn in his mind’s eye.

PJ was snug in his three fluffy bedsheets, and right as he was about to fall into the unconscious paradise of sleep, a small pop noise was heard. At first, he was startled, but slowly he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eye sockets and squinting in the dark to see who it was, standing there.

“Gray? What’s wrong?”

His younger brother stood at the edge of PJ’s bed frame, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of blue pajama pants. Without his glasses, PJ could tell he was having a really difficult time trying to determine if he was staring at his sibling or a mound of blankets.

Gray fidgeted where he stood picking at his phalanges, his multicolored finger bones matching PJ’s, although differing slightly in color. “Can I… can I have a sleepover with you?”

PJ immediately scooched towards the wall to make room for his brother on the bed. “Of course you can! Did you have another nightmare?”

In the dark, PJ could see Gray shake his head and climb into his sibling’s bed. The younger fumbled around until his hands found PJ’s arm bones, and he let out a sigh of relief, finding something to ground him through his blindness. Getting himself comfy, he pulled PJ close to him and wrapped his arms around his chest. Despite their age gap, PJ was only 2-3 inches taller than Gray, both skeletons stacking pretty short, but it's not like they minded. It had never been a problem for either of them, seeing as they already had the achievement of being almost as tall as their mom.

Gray gave a sleepy chuckle. “…yer pj’s are soft, PJ.”

“Like you haven’t made that joke every time I come downstairs in pajamas.”

Gray offered no answer, so his older brother offered nothing more on the matter. He could feel the younger slowly start to drift off, snuggled into him. PJ was still curious to why Gray had roused him from sleep this late at night and gave the younger a gentle shake on the shoulder.

“Gray, are you okay?” His voice was high pitched, he knew that. However, he had been told by his friends that it was comforting to hear, and therefore never tried to change it. Although it did peeve him when someone felt they had the /audacity/ to call him twelve.

Gray tilted his head up, so his chin rested on PJ’s chest. “Yeah, I’m just… thinking. I wanted ta tell you 'bout it.”

“Alright, I’m all ears, hee hee!”

Gradient, to PJ’s dismay, didn’t seem to acknowledge his joke and instead rolled over onto his other side, facing away from PJ. “…I think something’s wrong with mom.”

PJ could hardly make him out in the darkness of his room but could see his brother curled up in a less than comfortable position. He considered turning the light on but decided against it, in fear that it would disturb him. “With Ink? What do you mean?”

Gray was silent for a long moment, to the point where PJ was scared he had fallen back asleep until he murmured out a sullen answer. “I know I’m in my room a lot, but he’s been acting weird. He doesn’t spend as much time with us anymore, and always makes weird excuses. What if he’s hiding something?”

PJ was about to say something reassuring but then his brother cut back in. “… what if he’s doing a bad thing again?”

A bad thing. PJ and Gray’s code word for anything Ink would do that was slightly… unhinged. Mostly it was a result of his vials and how occasionally he’d go blank on his emotional palette, or other times, even when his emotions were replete, his lack of a soul still drove him to do… inhumane things. It wasn’t his fault, and PJ and Gray knew it. He was a natural philanthropist to the multiverse and had chosen to use his emotions for good, rather than for evil. That alone was an accomplishment. They knew he was trying, they really did. But they didn’t think he could ever truly make amends to the biggest baddest bad thing – The X Event. Of course, the two weren’t alive at that time, but they had heard the stories. Everyone had.

“On a scale of ‘he’s been forgetting his vials at home’ to ‘he’s starting the X Event again’, what are you thinking about?”

Gray shrugged and sat up slowly, his hands gripping the wooden bed frame. “He has a new room in the house.”

PJ had never heard of such a development and inquired his brother about it. “A new room?”

“Yeah, it’s always locked, and when he says he’s going to bed, I can’t find him in his bedroom anymore.” Gradient rubbed his eyes with a fist, which prompted PJ to lightly tug on his sleep shirt.

“C’mon, lay back down, you’re tired. How late were you up? It’s…” PJ squinted at the digital clock by his bedside. “…2:47”.

“I dunno. I was busy talking…” he cut himself off with a yawn and continued. “…talking to my friend. He’s been sad at home… says he doesn’t have any friends at school…”

With one last tug on his clothing, PJ finally got his brother to lay back down. The younger was obviously fighting hard against sleep, but it was clear that he was slowly being pulled under, running out of energy to continue his battle.

“The room’s all empty… ‘s weird. Thought he woulda decorated it a little… I looked at it before he went to bed – he left the door unlocked…” Those were the last few words that barely slipped out between his teeth before he was lightly snoring.

PJ watched his brother fade into sleep with a pensive expression. New room? Ink added and deleted rooms to the house all the time, but Gray had a point. He had never been able to find his mom sleeping in his bedroom anymore. Gray, even though he didn’t like to admit it, was very attached to his family, and would often spend the night cuddled up with Ink. It was concerning to see his brother’s requests now being denied. And the room was… “empty”? Ink _detested_ anything without décor or color. One of the reasons he hated the anti-void with a passion. It was slightly unnerving, to think that his mom might be hiding something from them. PJ sighed and wrapped his arms around his little brother, hugging him tight as he fell asleep alongside him, his mind circling with worrisome thoughts.

Ink wouldn’t do anything bad and endanger them, would he?

 

 

 

 

\----------~*~*~----------

  
**12:00 AM**

_**1:00 AM** _

_**2:00 AM** _

_**3:00 AM** _

_**3:30 AM** _

_**3:37 AM** _

That’s when Ink’s phone buzzed, displaying a single message, a welcome relief from staring at the incredibly boring white painted ceiling:

**@☆sunbeam70☆:** we’ve got him.

The message got Ink curious, and he gently rolled over, picking up his phone. He had been waiting all night for his guest to arrive, and to be so late was unlike him. The whole reason he had designed the horrendously bland room was to make his guest comfortable. Ink knew something had to be wrong. He had never been kept waiting this long.

**@thecreativebrush:** who? What r u talking about dream.

**@☆sunbeam70☆:** the destroyer we’ve got him we found him he’s chained we did it ink.

The vial that pertained to shock cracked and exploded, shards of glass and liquid flying around the room. Ink dropped his phone to the floor.

They were supposed to meet under the tree. Ink had forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- We have a traitor in our midst! Very spooky like 10/10 spooky  
> \- Ink you stupid hoe  
> \- Also yeah PJ is 28 but immortality is weird so he still looks and acts like a twelve-year-old dont breathe down my neck about that
> 
> Now, onto the important bit:  
> I didn't come up with this idea by myself. My amazing awesome friend @leos_heart03 created the idea of a council on the Omega Timeline, and from there everything took off. How late did we stay up talking about our ideas?? She is the real mastermind behind this all and I'd hate to make it all look original. We came up with the idea together, and I loved it so much I couldn't help turn it into a full blown story. So if your reading this Leo (which I know you are because I probably told you to haha) thanks so much!!!!! <3<3<3


	4. Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to happen. The things are not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like a typing machine this past week idk what got into me but don't expect chapters every week i had like no hw and zero plans

 

Dream sat, staring down at the ground. Through the wall, muffled screams could be heard. No matter what they did, they couldn’t get him to stop and the shrieks of pain and rage their captive exuded echoed through the council halls. The negativity coming off of him made Dream feel sick to his stomach. A part of him felt bad, but a more logical side brushed it off - their prisoner deserved it. He had killed millions of people, thousands of universes. It was only fair he got a taste of his own medicine.

“You’ve done an honorable thing today, Dream.”

Dream was resting in Alchemy’s office, sitting on a puffy armchair that looked like it had been pulled from a therapist’s office. The owner of the workspace sat at his desk, his hands clasped together as he gave Dream a soft smile. His soft, starry eyes gave off a brilliant purple haze, reflecting in his glasses like there could be a universe in the lenses. His desk was polished oak, carved into an ornate pattern, decorated with little curios he had collected from various sources. Some were pulsating crystals, almost bursting with arcane energy, while others were awards, for unparalleled magical feats and altruistic applications of his power. The ancient and knowledgeable aesthetic of Alchemy’s office would have been complete if only the screams were absent.

Dream looked down at his hands. “He… he won’t stop…”

Alchemy sighed, sullenly. “I know. We just have to ignore it.”

An animalistic snarl was heard through the walls, followed by the shouts of the guards, and an even louder screech. Dream shut his eyes. _It’s for the greater good._

“I’ve called all the other members of the council. We will make the Destroyer’s capture public knowledge tomorrow. Is Ink coming?”

“Yes, he’s on his way right now.”

“Good. For now, I want you to help the guards deal with him. Several have been injured trying to contain him. Even with magic-proof restraints, he is physically very strong. He’s left a few gashes in the legs of some of our most highly trained warriors.”

Dream stood up and gave a respectful nod. “Of course, Alchemy.” He swiftly made to leave the room, following the tormented screams, but before he could go, the God of Magic caught his attention.

“Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“How’s your spine?”

Dream rubbed his lower back and winced as he ran a hand over the bone. He could feel the slight cracks on his vertebrae and putting pressure on them only made them more painful. He gave Alchemy a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me, I heal fast. The important thing is that we’ve finally caught him. We’ve been preparing for this day to come for decades. I’m just – finally glad that it finally has. Hopefully, there will not be as much suffering anymore.”

He nodded sagely. “...hopefully.”

 

\----------~*~*~----------

Ink ran.

He ran down the stairs of his house, dropping over the edge of more than one floor, landing gracefully and slamming the front door behind him with so much force it almost fell off its hinges. It awoke both children, who, in their sleepy stupor, rushed to the mysterious room in the house, wondering if he was alright. They found nothing but an empty bedroom, and a few vials of emotion, discarded from his sash, each pertaining to positive emotions.

The second he left his house he drew his massive paintbrush from behind his back and made a stroke of paint against the ground, jumping through it without a second thought. He drifted through the void for a few moments before envisioning his destination and rematerializing himself in the council building. Soon after, his body came tumbling through an inky portal on the wall, disoriented. He slowly righted himself and jumped to his feet, his world still spinning.

“Where’s he?” Ink slurred, trying to steady himself and keep from falling over. He felt hands on his shoulder and a comforting voice, and Ink shook his head back and forth, clearing the stars from his vision.

He was face to face with Dream, who wore a very concerned expression towards the Guardian. “...Ink? Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

Ink flailed his hands around, trying to get Dream off of him. “No.” he grunted. “Where is he.”

“The Destroyer?” Dream asked, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

Ink didn’t respond and took a moment to take in his surroundings. He was right outside the council hall, the two imposing doors closed shut, and Ink noticed they had double the security. Two fully armored Undynes glared down at him, as well as Cross and Storyshift Toriel, shuffling slightly as they waited, weapons out and at the ready.

Dream took his friend by the arm and nodded to Cross, who waved a hand, allowing the guards to step aside. “The Destroyer’s inside,” Dream explained. “The rest of the council is in here as well. We’re going to give him a small interrogation, I think. Gosh, I’m so excited. This is it, this is the day we end all the suf-”

He was abruptly cut off by Ink breaking free from his embrace and zipping through the doors the second there was even a slight opening. Dream was a little shocked at how hurried and serious Ink looked, but he realized Ink was probably as eager to see the Destroyer’s reign of terror finally end as he was. But with another looked at the artist, Dream began to feel troubled. Both of his eyelights were simple white dots, rather than the variegated shapes that usually flashed in his sockets. Dream also took into account the fact that almost half the vials on Ink’s sash were missing and began to get the feeling that something was wrong.

The door was opened the very moment an animalistic scream reverberated through the room. Ink instinctively clasped both hands over the sides of his skull as all the artifacts and tapestries in the room shook with force. There were a bunch of angry voices and the summoning of magical weapons was heard. Ink opened his eyes.

And was immediately rooted to the ground in absolute horror.

“Error…”

Error was completely chained. In the center of the large table, he sat on his knees, surrounded by four guards, magically charged spears aiming at his head. Both his hands were tied behind his back with metal cuffs, a small light blinking on the restraints. His ankles were clasped together as well, ruling out any chance that he could even stand. Each of his fingertips had a small opalescent covering, the same material that his eye sockets were ringed with, most likely to prevent the use of his strings. A bulky silver collar with a small blue orb embedded in the center was clasped firmly around his neck, along with a metal muzzle across his mouth, the straps wrapping all around his skull. His eyes burned with insane rage.

He jerked in his restraints and gave a muffled growl, before one of the guards rather forcefully slammed a spear into his skull, looking down at him with anger. Alchemy stood by the table, gazing directly into the Destroyer’s eyes, his gentle gaze now lined with malice and a sort of victory. Around him, many important figures from various other AUs stood, waiting in fear and anxiety for the events about to transpire.

Alchemy had taken no notice of Ink’s presence and kept his eyes locked with Error’s. “Maybe with the muzzle you’ll keep quiet. It’s over Error. Accept your fate.”

The Destroyer narrowed his eyes and snarled through the muffler. Alchemy looked back at him, his determined gaze unwavering. Only when Dream called his name did he break away from the intense staring contest with his prisoner.

Upon discovering that Ink had arrived, Alchemy turned his attention to him and swiftly strode over to him. He looked slightly happy, trying and failing to mask it with a stern expression. “We’ve done it, Ink. We’ve got him. He will no longer cause harm to us or any inhabitant of this multiverse.”

Error kept struggling and howling, but when his eyes fell upon Ink, he softened. All the rage on his face melted away and he was immediately silent. His breath was heavy, and he looked at Ink with his wide mismatched eyes. The Creator recognized the emotion that his gaze held. He was desperate. He was suffering. He was _pleading_ for Ink to do _something._ But Ink didn’t feel any sympathy for him.

He had left those vials at home.

“What happened,” asked Ink, his voice devoid of energy.

Alchemy noticed Error’s peculiar reaction and gave a small grimace. “Well, what do you know. It looks like he’s _afraid_ of you.”

Ink didn’t look away from Error. “What happened,” he repeated.

The God of Magic took note of the several missing vials on his sash and was going to comment but held his tongue. “Core Frisk felt their arrival in the Omega Timeline, but they couldn’t pinpoint where he was located. We sent out a troop of guards to scout for any sort of presence, but soon a report was radioed in - one of the civilians had spotted him atop Ebott. He was sitting there, casually. The troop got further to him and discovered - he was asleep.”

Error looked away in shame, like he was internally berating himself for being apprehended so easily. Ink slowly unglued his blank stare from him and looked to Alchemy. “Then?”

“Then I was called in,” answered Dream, who had left a conversation between two stern looking security agents. “I was already in the council building, so it didn’t take long for the news to reach me. I met up with the group, surrounding him with spears in a circle, and surprisingly he was still fast asleep. So, I shot him with a special weapon I had been crafting over the years, an arrow I call a Somnium. It doesn’t harm the target, but it locks them in a dream-like state, displaying whatever soothes them the most in their minds. From there, it was fairly easy to bind him, but when he woke up, that’s when we began to have some… problems…”

It wasn’t very obvious, but Ink could see a couple of cuts and scrapes on Dream’s face, along with a few tattered pieces of fabric from his uniform. The two looked back to Error, who was breathing heavily, keeping his eyes trained on Ink. Then for half a second, so low it could barely be heard, a small noise escaped from Error. A whimper.

Ink heard it but didn’t even offer him a glance.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Ink brushed some dirt off of Dream’s shoulder, furrowing his brows.

“...A little, but it’s not bad, honest. I’m well trained with healing magic.”

“Good. The last thing I would want is you getting injured.”

A hand was put on each of their shoulders, and the two looked up to see Alchemy. “Come. We still must address the matter at hand.”

The two nodded and Alchemy motioned with his hands, calling everyone around the wide table. As Ink moved to take his place among them, he finally took notice of all the important figures that were in the room. He could see most of the royalty from Reapertale present, with both Toriel and Asgore standing as far away from each other as possible. Reaper stood, holding hands with Geno, as the couple gazed at their fallen enemy. Core Frisk sat in their elevated chair to appear more imposing, and beside them sat Paper Crane, Abyss, Anti-Virus, and Seraphim, who had been leaning against the wall. Unbeknownst to the nine-souled god, when he made his way to sit by the table, his barbed tail made a few chips in the marble pillar. Underswap Sans, better known as Blueberry, was there as well. He had tried to make conversation with Error numerous times since the glitch was brought in, but every attempt to comfort or greet him would get nothing but snarls and threats. There were many others, some of which Ink didn’t even recognize upon first glance, but he didn’t come here for a meet and greet. He had more important things to be thinking about.

Once everyone was gathered around the table the room fell eerily silent. It felt almost similar to a cult gathering, Ink thought to himself - here they were, all in a circle, with one tortured and miserable individual in the center. He tried not to show it, but it was plain to see - the Destroyer was scared. His limbs were bound, his magic was gone and his speech was restricted, and now he sat, taking in the hateful stares of some of the most powerful beings in the multiverse. Some of which he had fought, won, and stolen homes and family from.

His eyes flit anxiously around, looking over everyone within his field of vision and he growled, trying to break the silence. He looked at Ink again with the same pitiful expression, and Ink offered him nothing. Suddenly enraged with Ink’s lack of action, Error suddenly surged forward, an attempt to reach the artist, but was stopped abruptly with a small yip as the metal collar around his neck administered an electric shock.

“Quiet,” Alchemy ordered to both the congregation of people and the prisoner. Both obeyed the instruction.

Ink calmly listened as Alchemy began to speak, his hands folded neatly on the table. The place in his chest where his soul should have been was screaming for something, feeling emptier than usual, but he pushed the feeling down. He kept his eyes trained on Error, who looked back at him with a confused and almost betrayed look.

“I have called you all here,” Alchemy stated, “because today we have finally taken down our most persistent enemy - Error. It had recently been brought to my knowledge that he had been roaming the Omega Timeline, but I didn’t expect that he would allow himself to be caught… so easily…”

Error felt his impatience rising and wiggled in his cuffs angrily, resulting in another volt of electricity. One of the guards, with a small remote, gave him a small kick in the ribs and eyed him with malice “Ya keep whining and I increase the voltage, got it, you psychotic mistake?”

Error was silent and let his gaze travel back to Ink. Ink stared back at him, his face completely blank.

Reaper stepped forward, his eye sockets empty and his hand still squeezing Geno’s. “Did anyone take into consideration that this may be part of his plan? He wouldn’t just-“

“No.”

Every head turned to Ink, who still hadn’t stopped staring at Error. They waited for him to elaborate but that’s all he said.

“Ink?” Alchemy asked. “Are you okay? Some of your vials…”

“I left them at home.” Ink snapped. “I don’t need them for something like this.”

_I don’t want them while I do something like this,_ was the unspoken truth in Ink’s case.

The artist cleared his throat. “I said no. Look at him Reaper - does that look like part of his plan to you? He’s obviously terrified. Look, you can even see him shaking! He knows that the situation’s hopeless.”

Error was, in fact, shaking silently, slightly more so than he normally tended to do. The Destroyer was generally unsturdy, as parts of his form would constantly glitch in and out of existence. But the shivers he gave out now were definitely more fearful than natural.

“Yeah,” Reaper said, “but he wouldn’t fall asleep underneath a tree in the Omega Timeline just because he was sleepy, he -”

“Just trust me,” Ink barked, agitated. “This isn’t part of some evil scheme, he’s completely caged. The idiot doesn’t even know what to do with himself!”

The room was silent, and everyone looked to each other, tacitly deciding that this wasn’t the most opportune moment to pick a fight with Ink. Error’s eyes went wide, as wide as they could go with a ring of metal around the sockets. He gave another whimper, louder this time, and everyone heard it, but it was ignored.

Blueberry, fidgeting nervously in the corner, patiently raised his hand, waiting to be called on. Alchemy looked at him for a few moments, clearly bemused, and pointed at him. “Yes, Blue?”

The short skeleton looked around the room at all the powerful eyes on him and took a deep breath, before speaking with resolve. “I...I think you guys are being a little bit mean. I mean, he’s already captured, I don’t think-”

“What about when he stole you away from your home?” Dream suddenly interjected. “When he took you prisoner, was he nice to _you_???”

Blue looked to him in shock as Dream continued to rant. “From what you said, he kept you alone in the anti-void for so long you started to lose your memory! You told us it hurt to move, you told us he had your soul wrapped in his vile blue string around the clock! You told us he made you nearly kill your own brother, for Pete’s sake, why should we be gentle with him??”

“Well we also watched Undernovela together!” retorted Blue, raising his voice defensively. “He always got me chocolate to eat, and he had a few genuine conversations with me when I was sad!”

“So, what about those glitches on your body then?”

Blue fell silent, and Dream knew that he had found a foothold on the argument. “Your body was practically mangled when we found you. One more day in that gross empty void and you would have been permanently damaged - you would have become a glitch like him. If he hadn't left his portal open - we would have never been able to get you out in time. Don't lie to yourself, Blue. He was never your friend. I know you want to see the best in everyone but, please. Please remember what he did to you, and what he could have done if we hadn't stepped in.”

The determined expression slowly slipped from Blue’s face, and he regarded Dream for a few moments before sitting back down, looking to no one and offering not another word on the subject.

A silence fell over the group, while Error glared at them all with angry eyes. Seraphim, who was sitting crisscrossed on the floor and still taller than everyone standing, raised an arm with a jaded expression on his face. “So like, what are you gonna do with him then? I get it, the little bugger needs to have his ass schlepped, but are you gonna like - throw him in a normal prison cell? Or are you going find a way to execute him?” Seraphim ruffled the six massive wings on his back nonchalantly, not noticing how Ink stiffened and twitched with his last sentence.

“Oh,” Alchemy answered, “that is-”

“Classified.” Came an unknown, female voice.

A figure approached, her heeled, white latex boots clicking against the tile floor. She walked with spunk, swaying her hips as if she knew something you didn’t, eyeing everyone in the room as inferiors. Her red hair was pulled into a tight, greasy bun and her lab coat had a few mysterious stains. She smiled, flaunting her yellowed teeth and everyone in the room felt shivers go down their spine.

Undyne from Swapfell.

Simply put, she was as completely and utterly brilliant as she was insane. She could put together experiments and launch them incredible amounts of success and proposed ideas that most people couldn’t even conceive of. Back in Swapfell, they called her both a miracle worker and a harbinger of chaos. When she wanted to do something, there was almost nothing anyone could do to stop her, not even Queen Toriel could hinder her plans, most of which included excessive amounts of blood. She was the one who tamed and programmed the ferocious beast that was Alphys into her servitude. Countless monsters feared the possibility of being her next test subject, for unlike the classic universe, the amalgamates of monsters she had made were put onto display, like a trophy or a display of her prowess. Not only that, but she had the goopy abominations do her bidding as well, and when not in use, they were thrown in rusty cages.

It was lucky Nightmare’s group didn’t reach Swapfell before they did - with the natural alignment of the world, it wouldn’t have been surprising if they immediately jumped to Nightmare’s aid upon contact. But with gentle persuasion and promises of a better, non-violent life, they began to gain more monster’s trust, little by little. They had recruited Undyne as part of the science branch but after several… complaints from the others about her less-than-ethical behavior, they let her work with something more suited to her.

She dealt with the prisoners.

“You can’t have all the details…” she drawled, running her fingers over a pair of glinting silver scissors on her belt, resulting in Error’s pupils shrinking down to the size of pinpricks. “But I will tell you, that he will greatly aid me in a lot of my experiments~”

Alchemy rose at once. “Stop it, doctor. There is no need for such talk. Anything that happens to him will happen while he’s unconscious, and no unnecessary operations will be made. The Destroyer is not allowed to die at the hands of anyone – the LV gains that would come out of his death are absolutely unimaginable, and that type of power in anyone’s hands would result in nothing but catastrophe. He will be handled with extreme care.”

Swapfell’s version of Undyne continued to saunter forward, earning a few disapproving glares from her other alternates in the room. But she couldn’t have cared less. She was at the side of the table now and gazed, half-lidded, at her new toy.

“Where’s the fun in that, Alchy? I need some good blood on my hands. It’s been so long…”

“You will run your experiments under heavy supervision, while he is unconscious, and only if no part of him is severely damaged in the process. Understood, doctor? This isn’t some game like you think it is.”

She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, admit it. You want to see what’s in his mind as much as I do. Maybe I could find a way to reprogram him? Make him a weapon of the Omega Timeline, slaughtering all those who oppose? Wouldn’t that be an amazing defense against the big baddies? To have the most powerful force in the multiverse on our side?”

Alch fell silent and gazed blankly at the table like he was genuinely considering her offer, and then Ink couldn’t sit quietly any longer.

“So you’re going to use him as a science experiment.” Ink said. His eyelights had shifted to crosshairs, a sign that he was getting mad. “You’re going to abuse him until death, chain him during life, treat him like a savage untamable animal until he dies of natural causes. Torture him with physical contact and numerous amounts of torture devices by placing you, this psychotic bitch, in charge of his care?”

“It… It’s for a better world in the long run,” said Anti-Virus softly.

Ink ignored him and directed his speech towards Alch. “She’s going to chop him into bloody pieces, and you’re going to let her just…just severely maim him and not say a word? You guys are becoming the very torturers you swore to destroy!”

That got a rise out of Alch, who slammed his fists on the table impatiently. The whole room became silent with fear. The god of magic rarely lost his temper. “You are dismissed, doctor. In fact, you were unauthorized to come into this room in the first place. Leave.”

She didn’t look intimidated at all and gave the destroyer one last look. “I’m going to have fun with you…” She cooed, before strutting out the door, a victorious smile on her face.

Once she left, Alch launched into an angry tirade.

“Do you think I ENJOY this, Ink? Do you think it brings me joy to know that I am the one responsible for the captivity and imprisonment of someone’s life? This must be done, or else we are just going to keep losing more and more people, more and more lives, to someone like him. If we contain him, all the havoc and chaos he creates will cease as well, and if we take the time to understand how his unique magic patterns work, then we could help make advancements to our own army. Don’t you understand? He’s dangerous, he’s a sociopathic _animal_ , and I honestly believe he’s had this coming for a long time. This will do so much good for the people of this multiverse, and they won’t need to feel as if their lives are going to be ripped away any second by this demon. Please understand, Ink. You know who he is better than anyone else here.”

“... I do.”

“Then you must see this from my point of view. We will try not to do anything too inhumane to him. I know you respect all life, but this _has_ to happen.”

Ink was silent for a beat.

“Let the Destroyer speak. Let’s hear what he thinks.”

Reaper looked stunned. “Let him speak? Ink, all he’s going to do is throw insults around, threaten to return once again, and blah blah blah!”

“No, take off the muzzle. Let him speak his mind,” said Life. “He should have the right.”

“The right???” An angry voice piped up from the back. “That son of a bitch killed everyone I’ve ever loved! My home, my goddamn _universe_ is nothing but a dust-filled void, like it never existed in the first place! He forced me to watch as he crushed my brother’s chest, every snapped rib scream making him smile wider!!!”

The room rose into an uproar, arguments and accusations tossed around, most aimed for Error, who started with a blank expression at the ground. Blue, who had been staying out of the chaos, was suddenly approached by a guard, who bent down and whispered to him. A few moments later, Blue had untied his cyan ascot and handed it to the guard, who took it with a thanks.

Alchemy couldn’t stand the noise. “Silence!” he yelled, and the room immediately fell quiet. He looked to one of the guards looming above Error. “Amethyst, please undo the muzzle for a brief moment.”

A purple-scaled Undyne nodded and clicked a small button. The muzzle immediately split in half and slid to the sides of his skull, ready to snap back at a moment’s notice. Error immediately began to gasp, the cool air down his throat a welcome relief.

“Speak,” Alchemy commanded. “Now.”

Error was silent for another moment before he lifted his head upwards, staring directly into Ink’s eyes. The room's occupants were preparing themselves for a barrage of insults, threats, and mockery from the Destroyer, but when none came, they were perplexed. Then they saw his eyes and the atmosphere became terrifyingly somber.

He was crying.

Little tears were dripping down the sides of his cheeks, running along the blue markings on his face like tracks. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob, the words getting caught and mangled into gibberish. He tried again, and the word finally came out.

“Ink...”

He shut his eyes, squeezing more tears from his sockets, making the metal around the rim of his eyes shine brightly. His voice was cracked, weak, and soft. There was no rage, no malice. Only desperation. The glitched undertones were much more subdued than they normally were, and at that moment he seemed true helpless.

“Inky, _please…_ don't... don't do this...”

At the nickname, Ink stiffened. He had been doing a remarkable job of keeping his cool this far, but when addressed like that, his uncertainty began to show. The Destroyer kept going.

“Please… y-you said you lo-”

“Shut him up.” Ink said harshly.

Error was caught off guard by the request, and when it was not executed immediately, he kept going, more passionate, causing his body to glitch violently in terror and ascending rage. His voice began to crack and fizz like a dying audio system.

“... you prom͡ise̢͠͡d̴ Y͞O͘͠҉U̧̢̨ L͘O̡V̴-̡͞͠-”

“I SAID SHUT. HIM. UP!!!”

The muzzle was instantly clamped over his mouth, and he finished the rest of his statement into the metal, coming out only as muffled growls to their ears. Two fat tears spilled from his eyes as he screeched and lunged forward, an electric shock cutting him off, and he slumped to the floor in agony. He wasn’t offered any reprieve before he was rather forcefully pushed up to his knees again.

Ink had both palms slammed against the table. His eyes were as black as the void and his mouth was curled into a vicious snarl. He stood there, breathing heavily, before slowly falling back into his seat, staring at Error with empty eyes, his face completely unexpressive.

Feeling slightly perturbed at the exchange between both enemies, Alchemy knew he had to wrap up the meeting quickly. He could see Core Frisk with small, black tears hovering in their eyes. They were scared. He gently rubbed there back with a disembodied hand and interjected in the silence before any more trouble could rise. He could see that he was getting a negative reaction from Life as well, seeing as she was scowling at the guards surrounding Error.

“Please, Ink – no, everyone for that matter – listen to me. He will not be in endless pain, and we will find a way to deal with him humanely. Tests we run will be for scientific purposes, not torture. Our goal is to learn from him, and subtract him from the multiverse’s equation, not try and make his life a living hell. Although… I have to admit he kind of deserves it. But we are different from those who let their pessimism consume them, so we are not going to treat him to torment. But he will pay for all the lives he’s taken. He will go down to the prison cells and never see the light of day again.”

Error whimpered and squirmed in his restraints again, before another zap kept him still.

“Does anyone have a problem with what I’m saying? If so, speak now, and maybe we can discuss.”

Silence.

“Please…” Life said timidly. “Be peaceful. Please.”

Alchemy gave a very small but respectful nod. “I will make sure he doesn’t suffer through too much harm. But he will stay locked away and unconscious for the remainder of his life.”

Life opened her mouth to say something but then promptly closed it and answered with a curt bow of her head.

“You had this coming, Destroyer.” Dream said, narrowing his eyes. “So be glad you’re only going to get a quarter of the agony you’ve brought upon the rest of the multiverse.”

“I hope you burn in hell, you piece of _shit_.” Reaper spat, backing Dream up with his eyes blank and full of malice. “Death should happen naturally over time, not with thousands slaughtered in an instant at the hands of a madman. The second we track down that little anti-void of yours, I’m freeing every single one of the souls you have strung up like playthings and sending them to a better place. I hope every single one of them finds peace from your deranged game.”

The whole hall erupted in shouts, cursing Error’s name and the very ground he walks on. Alch had to call for silence yet again, and they all waited on another response.

If monsters didn’t dust, you might have thought Ink was dead. He hadn’t moved, slumped in his seat, and both of his eye sockets were empty, gazing somewhere in Error’s direction. His stare was vacuous and Dream immediately thought that either he was lost in thought, had fallen asleep with his eyes open, or something had gone seriously wrong with his vials.

“Ink?”

And just like that, the creator came to, reigniting his absent eyelights and taking a deep breath in. He watched, unamused, as three more tears slid down Error’s face.

“Well?” He said when he noticed the silence. “Let’s get a move on! Are we going to sit around or are we going to throw him behind bars?"

He turned and looked directly into Error’s eyes, leaning as far forward on the table as he could.

“In fact... I don’t want to see his hideous, psychotic face ever again. I hope you chain him to the wall like a rabid dog, because when it boils down, that’s all he really is.”

“Enough.”

Alchemy cut in with an authoritarian tone, and Ink sat back down, scowling.

Error had stopped crying. One last residual droplet made its way to the ground, and he wept no more. His eyes looked dead, glazed over with nothing but exhaustion and pain. He didn’t look like he had any more willpower left. He looked… broken. And Ink could see it too. The Creator’s words had shattered him.

Alchemy nodded an affirmative to the guards and they immediately sprang into action. Blue’s small scarf was wrapped around Error’s eyes, and they tied it in a quick knot. Error had given a small twitch at the new restraint being placed on him, but the instinctual surprise wore off as soon as it had come. He didn’t make a sound, which was odd for him. Not a growl, not a whimper, not even any sort of movement whatsoever. He had stopped fighting.

The now blinded prisoner sat patiently on his knees, looking as helpless as a wounded gazelle surrounded by lions, but it didn’t look like he cared in the slightest. The purple-scaled Undyne brought forth a small syringe and flicked the tip a couple of times, before silently sinking it in between the vertebrae on his neck. She pressed on the plunger until all of the contents were emptied through the needle and then drew it back out again. The other three guards held weapons to his head, expecting him to growl and fight back, but got a veritable surprise when he didn’t even flinch at the injection.

For a few seconds, it looked like nothing had happened.

And then the Almighty Destroyer of Worlds collapsed onto the smooth, metal table, his skull creating a resounding crack noise. He was out. He was immediately swarmed with council workers, trying to take measurements, run scans on his stats, to check the pulse of his soul. The ascot was untied from around his eyes and it was replaced by another blindfold, the last one being only temporal. This one had a lot more metal, and a lot more leather straps to keep it in place.

Alchemy exhaled loudly. “It is done. Now that he is incapacitated, he can be- Ink, where are you going?”

The door slammed so hard that one of the screws popped out and rolled across the floor.

 

\----------~*~*~----------

The second Ink got home, he went straight up to the room where he had left his vials, and immediately uncorked a bright pink one, practically pulsing with its strength. He didn’t breathe until he had chugged the entire thing, and then he threw the empty glass down, breaking it into pieces.

The effects rolled over him at once, like a tsunami, and at once he began to feel like he was drowning. Pink began to leak between his teeth, staining the carpet as he choked up some of the liquid love, his body unable to handle it that fast and at that quantity all at once. The emotions came rushing up to his skull, pounding and chipping it like red hot pokers until the only thing he was able to do was scream.

 

\----------~*~*~----------

  
**“…y’know, I’m proud of you.”**

_**“Oh yeah? Why?”** _

_**“Because you’ve become an amazing cuddler!”** _

_**“Please. You're the one getting all snuggly here. I ain’t doing shit.”** _

_**“Yes, you are!”** _

_**“Like what?”** _

_**“Being soft! It takes a lot of work to be this warm and comfortable.”** _

_**“Well, based on what we just finished doing literally twenty seconds ago, I suspect that I should be a little heated.”** _

_**“Mmm… You’re like one of those butt warmers they have on cars.”** _

_**“Cars have butt warmers?”** _

_**“Some do.”** _

_**“Cool. So I’ve been reduced to a butt warmer now.’** _

_**“Aw, don’t be grouchy about it. Besides, you’re warming my face. Not my butt. I mean, you COULD be my butt warmer…”** _

_**“If you sit on me I will literally snap your spine.”** _

_**“I don’t doubt it.”** _

_**“…”** _

_**“Hey, what’s wrong?”** _

_**“… you care about me, don’t you?”** _

_**“What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I do!”** _

_**“You promise?”** _

_**“You already know the an-“** _

_**“Please. You know how I feel about you. Do you promise that you feel the same?”** _

_**“…yes. I do. You mean everything to me.”** _

_**“Good. Because, uh, ditto.”** _

_**“Hm. I love it when you blush. Get some sleep. I’ll be right here for you in the morning.”** _

_**“Okay. I…I love you.”** _

_**“I love you too.”** _ ********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof I made it e d g y. Now everyone's sad.
> 
> (Except for the council, those douches are probably drinking champagne)
> 
> Also, shoutout to Leo for coming up with the idea of the Somnium arrows. She made like - a whole index of all the different weapons Dream would use and it was rlly cool I just had to use it in my story. (Sorry ily Leo)


	5. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream has a talk with everybody's favorite hoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write about how Dream is dealing with this whole situation.
> 
> Also, I don't really think it _needs_ a warning, but there is some discussion about secks. It's not graphic at all, and the only thing they really talk about is sex existing. So I mean... this is still sfw 100%. Very mild.

“Another drink please.”

The green-flamed Grillby gave him a look, and even though his head was literally nothing but colored fire, he still managed to raise his brow. The towel he had been using to wipe the beer glasses slowed in its movements. He cast the wooden counter in soft, lime-colored light, and it comforted Dream, who had his head slumped against the wood. Dream didn’t go to bars often, but he needed a place to relax, and everyone told him the Grillby-run bar in Snowdin was the best place to go when you were down.

The Grillby, whose nickname read ‘Borax’ on his name tag, put the cup down and sighed heavily. “...This is your sixth glass…”

Dream lifted his head blearily and looked at the elemental. His bright yellow eyes were slightly dimmer than usual, and a bit fuzzier in contrast. “Yeah? So?” he said indignantly. “More.”

He was silent for a few moments, before realizing that that must have been incredibly rude to the poor bartender, and smiled up at him sheepishly, his cheek smooshed against the wood. “…Please?”

The bartender sighed and went to the other side of the bar to give Dream a refill. Seeing as Dream was part of the grand and glorious council, he was given a discount by the manager. Dream still paid them in full, anyways. He didn’t like seeing hard work go unrewarded.

Borax came back with another glass, filled to the brim with a golden-brown liquid, topped with crisp foam. Dream downed the entire glass in one go and then lowered his head onto the table again. He was so… _conflicted._ Capturing the Destroyer was good, wasn’t it? It meant that people didn’t need to live in fear anymore. Error had been tolerable when he had kept to himself and only went after the forgotten timelines with an excess of suffering. _It was better to put them out of their misery, anyways,_ Dream reasoned. But then the Destroyer would start making bolder advances, on big universes with lots of inhabitants and tourists, like Underswap, Reapertale, and even slight alternates of the original universe. And every time they warded him off, it kept getting more and more difficult until they began losing millions of innocents, powerless to stand up to him.

 _He was getting too strong._ Dream attempted to mollify his fears and swirling worries, only to make himself dizzy. _This was the right thing… right?? He seemed… so sad… I didn’t think he was capable of such feelings… and there was love on his aura… No Dream, he’s tricking you. He doesn’t actually care, all he’s trying to do is escape, and he’ll use any tactic he can… this is better. He can’t hurt anyone now. But maybe he wasn’t trying to kill anyone? I mean, we found him under a stupid tree, snoozing like he was just taking a casual nap. Were we too mean…? No, that was the right thing to do. The fact that he was even able to get into the Timeline is a problem in itself. This was the right thing, this was the RIGHT THING-_

“Are you okay, Dream?”

Dream looked up to see the concerned face of Borax, who had stopped polishing the glasses to look at him. “I’ve never seen you come around to a bar before, and you seem… upset. Is this because of the Destroyer’s capture?”

Of course he knew. Everybody knew by now. Parties were thrown every day in rejoice of Error’s imprisonment. The news had spread to every timeline in the damn multiverse. And Dream’s name was on a list of names to thank for the capture. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

“I dunno…” He said, tracing his finger around the rim of his glass. “I’m glad that there won’t be any more fear in the multiverse directed towards him, and now we’ll be able to learn a lot from him, but I still feel… bad. I mean, we have other prisoners. Like, the Genocider who went by “Dust” is in a cell right now. But he’s treated pretty normally. We don’t - bind him from head to toe, and we’re not trying to train him to behave with shock collars. He’s just… a prisoner, ya know? Meals three times a day, he can interact with others, we even have some recreational activities. I don’t think we’re mean, mind you, because I’ve heard that the Genocider’s favorite form of torture is dust eating. We… we aren’t like them. Like - we have our reasons, and the people we have locked up are far from innocents… but I still feel crummy, you know? Doing these kinds of things to people. But what else can we do with them?”

The bartender nodded along as Dream rambled. The fire elemental had probably had his fair share of talkative drunks, so he was likely accustomed to showing his attention and sympathy for others. “I see,” he said. “So, you feel like a bad guy?”

“Well, no… I just… I mean I know that we probably just saved millions of lives by capturing him, but… he was crying, and howling, and… I don’t like seeing people like that… maybe I was too harsh on Error, because I also started to get mad at him too. Everyone in the room was yelling at him, and he wouldn’t stop crying...”

“Don’t feel bad about it.” Borax sighed, adjusting his glasses. He set the glass he was working on down and leaned closer to Dream, his voice low. “It was time for karma to take its toll, anyways. He’s getting what he deserves. You know he killed my daughter?”

Dream lifted his head slightly to look at the bartender. “...I… I’m so sorry…”

He closed his luminescent eyes and the line where his mouth was curved into a slight frown. “It’s nothing, it’s been fifteen years since, anyways. She was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. It couldn’t be helped.”

He stood up and took his glasses off, and he wiped the lens clean with his thumb. He tried not to make it obvious, but Dream could pick up on how people were feeling. It was a natural ability of his. The Grillby’s aura was drenched with sorrow, and the telltale feelings of anger and vengeance swirled deep within them, but on the outside, he let none of these things show.

“...right…”

“It’s painful you know? To see alternate versions of your daughter pass through your restaurant every day - knowing that not a single one of them is yours. And on top of that, to know that most have fathers of their own, living happily. Taunting me with the perfect life I’m never going to have with her.”

Borax was silent for a few moments, before giving a breathy chuckle and looking to Dream with a small smile and saddened eyes. “Well, I’ve been talking for a while. The bartender’s job is to listen to the drunkards, not to have the drunkards listen and console him, heh.”

Dream gave him a look and hiccupped. “‘M not drunk…” A beat. “Can I have more?”

The bartender sighed and took his glass. “Yes, you can have more.” Before he walked off to prepare Dream’s drink, he leaned over the counter and looked at him with soft, twinkling eyes. “Thank you, for avenging my daughter.”

It took a moment for the words to fully register, and all Dream could do was weakly nod as he walked away to refill the cup.

 _See?_ He told himself. _It was the right thing. He was a horrible monster. He took this man’s daughter. This was the correct thing to do. Alch was right, everyone will be happier once he’s put down. But Ink… he didn’t handle it well…_

He slipped his smartphone out of his pocket and clicked onto the app ‘Multinet’, and sent a quick text message over to his best friend. The background noise of the bar was distracting while he typed, with the clanking of dishes, the low murmurs of friends and gamblers, as well as the never-ending jazz music that poured from the jukebox in the corner. After he sent the text, he scrolled up and looked at his previous messages, scowling. Every single one had been marked as ‘seen’, which only agitated Dream further.

 **4:07 AM @☆sunbeam70☆:** ink? Why did you leave like that?

 **11:10 AM @☆sunbeam70☆:** ink please pick up

 **12:32 PM @☆sunbeam70☆:** I’m sorry about what happened to error. I’ll try and convince them not to hurt him.

 **2:57 PM@☆sunbeam70☆:** ink where have you been. I’m getting worried

 **3:44 PM @☆sunbeam70☆:** INK SRSLY ARE U DEAD

 **3:44 PM @thecreativebrush:** no

 **3:45 PM @☆sunbeam70☆:** oh good! How are you?

 **4:15 PM @☆sunbeam70☆:** ink…?

 **Just Now @☆sunbeam70☆:** ink I’m not gonna stop pestering you until you tell me what’s wrong. I really care about you and I hope you aren’t off your vials. It won’t be good if you drain yourself of feeling – it’s not going to change anything. I promise I won’t let them do anything bad to Error.

As he read over the message after sending it, a few words appeared underneath it showing that Ink had seen the message. Dream waited eagerly for the guardian of the AUs to say something but after waiting ten seconds, he knew that this text was going to be no different than the others.

He rather aggressively jammed his finger into the ‘power off’ button and shoved it back into his coat pocket, burying his head in the crooks of his elbows once again. The Protector of Light pouted angrily for a few more moments, before sensing someone slip onto the bar stool next to him. He ignored it, and went back to his troublesome thoughts, almost feeling himself drift off when the sound of a glass being slapped on the table rather violently jolted him out of his stupor. He sat up abruptly and squinted a bit to readjust his eyes to the dimly lit bar, and saw his refilled glass in front of him, the delicious beverage spilling over the sides of the drink and onto the green Grillby’s hand, as he was still clutching the glass. The liquid that came in contact with his hand did not have the expected reaction of combusting into flames or smoking but instead began to glow an interesting shade of blue, most likely an odd chemical reaction with the two substances. Dream decided not to drink that bit.

He looked up to Borax, about to mutter another thank you for his 8th glass, when he realized the bartender wasn’t looking at him at all. No, his gaze was locked on another monster, the one who had taken his seat next to Dream.

“Ah, Violet. I see you’ve decided to close up shop early. Difficult clients?”

When the mysterious being spoke, it surprised Dream. His voice was fairly low and masculine, but he spoke with such a musical air, as if he were crooning every word he spoke to a lover. “You have no idea, Bo…”

Dream cast the figure a glance and immediately felt his blood run cold.

As if the knee-high, neon purple boots on five-inch stilettos with golden studs all the way down their side wasn’t an indication of who was next to him.

He sat on the bar stool with an arrogant yet seductive manner, like modesty was the last thing in the multiverse he was concerned with. He was wearing ripped jean short-shorts that barely passed his bottom and a baby blue top, with fabric that circled around his neck and crossed over his chest in two sashes, leaving the majority of his stomach exposed. A large, white fur overcoat was draped around his shoulders and elbows, offering him a bit of cover-up, but not much when he shimmied it down to the level he had it at currently. His phalanges were bedecked with rings and acrylic nails, attached to the general area where nails would have been if he were human. His face was dusted with a beautiful lavender color, and Dream couldn’t help but stare at his features, the color of his magic, and the impressive ecto-body he had formed. The yellow-clad skeleton wasn’t staring with attraction, but with admiration of his calm yet dangerous tone, and the confidence that swirled wildly in his aura.

Borax noticed Dream staring and snickered, tapping Violet’s elbow. “I think you have an admirer, Vi…”

Dream immediately turned his head and blushed. “N-No! I just… I just think your magic is a very pretty color, that’s all… It’s nice to see you again, Lust.”

The purple skeleton hummed like magic color was a compliment he had heard plenty times in the past and was almost bored with it. “Please, call me Violet. That’s my stage name, at least, and I quite like it. I think it suits me. I’m gonna be real with you – the name ‘Lust’ makes me sound like a sex addict.”

“… No offense, but I thought you were one?”

Violet paused for a few moments, his face screwed up like he was calculating a difficult equation. “Huh,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

He looked at Dream, his face blank, before erupting into laughter, and Borax followed. Dream chuckled nervously along with them, feeling like an outsider between the two. Before he could say anything, Violet’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed Dream’s drink from in front of him.

“Hey! Give it back!” Dream protested, but Violet was hearing none of it. He swished the glass and crossed one of his legs over the other.

“I just wanna see what kind of alcohol the ‘Oh-So Magnificent Guardian of All That is Light and Holy’ drinks!” Violet took a sip before Dream could splutter out any more complaints, and smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to savor the lingering taste. His eyes looked to the floor, trying to identify it, before he looked up to Dream, confused.

“This is… literally just apple juice???”

“It _is_ ,” Dream griped, snatching his glass back. “And what I drink is none of your business.”

A baffled smirk came to Violet’s face and he turned to the Grillby, clearly amused. “I thought he was drunk?”

Borax gave a shrug in response, and Dream narrowed his eyes at both of them. He had a nagging feeling he was being picked on. “I said ‘m not drunk. I don’t like alcohol, and I don’t like the way it messes with my brain.”

“Then why have you been moping around like you’re pickled, hon?” Violet asked, propping his chin on his hands. Borax leaned against the counter too, waiting for Dream’s answer with a sarcastic sort of interest. Dream really didn’t feel like spilling all of his secrets to someone like that, so he decided to spontaneously change the topic of conversation to something less personal.

“Um…” He looked at Violet, trying to think of something to say. And then Dream’s conscious offered him an incredibly insightful and intelligent observation to remark on. 

“You have a butt,” Dream said, stupidly.

It took him a few moments to completely understand what idiocy just came out of his mouth and he dropped his head onto the table with a thunk, reaching for his apple juice. Everything about this day really was terrible.

Violet didn’t even blink. “I most certainly do,” he calmly responded, as the green-flamed Grillby began to laugh so hard embers flew from his mouth. Violet never let an opportunity to beguile someone go to waste, however, and immediately snapped into seduction mode. He leaned forward, his voice low, and ran two of his fingers up Dream’s arm alluringly. “You wanna see it~?”

“Okay, okay, let’s just stop right here,” Borax interjected, slapping Violet’s hand away from Dream. “You’re gonna make the poor guy keel over!”

Dream was looking like he would most certainly do just that, his face a brighter yellow than the artificial sun in the sky. Both of his eyelights were out and he sat unmoving, completely shaken, causing Borax to start laughing even harder. Violet joined in and Dream shot them the evil eye and began to chug his juice, not wanting to deal with the two busybodies any longer.

“Aw, c’mon. I’m just teasing ya… I’m not in earnest, I swear.” Violet chuckled. Dream still ignored him and pulled out his smartphone again, hoping he would get the message that Dream didn’t want to talk anymore. He could hear the bartender laugh and murmur a few things under his breath.

“I’ve stayed by you guys long enough,” said Borax, standing and picking up a few plates. “You aren’t the only people at this bar. I’ve kept my counterparts waiting long enough. You two have fun!”

He set off to the other side of the bar to attend to his other patrons, and Dream sighed, relieved. There was only one more problem now, and Dream could feel its breath on his neck.

“Do you _mind?_ ” Dream said, somewhat curtly. “What I do on my phone is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern,” Violet replied. “Because I wanna know what you’re up to. Who are you tex-ting~?” He said, in a sing-song voice. Violet laid his head down on Dream’s shoulder and Dream refused to acknowledge his presence.

“None of your business, Lust.”

“Violet.”

“ _Violet._ Whatever! Just… please leave me alone… pretty please… I’m in the middle of something…”

Violet didn’t seem like he cared even a little bit and stared over Dream’s phone. Dream tilted the screen away from it but the scantily-clad skeleton had already seen it. “Oh, you’re texting good ol’ Paintsplots McGee? That guy’s a hoot!”

“You’re rather loquacious, you know?” Dream pointed out. “Like – I don’t wanna be rude but I think I should tell you that-“

“Okay okay okay _wait._ I just remembered. _I_ need to tell _you_ something.” He cut Dream off mid-sentence, squealing like an excited teenage girl about to go see One Direction in concert. He scooched his barstool further towards Dream, and it made ugly scraping noises against the ground. “Okay like – did you hear? Did Ink tell you? Because I know you guys are all buddy-buddy and stuff. Did he tell you??”

“…Tell me what?”

Violet’s whole face lit up, and his eyes sparkled a brilliant hue. “Oh. My. _God._ Hon, sit down, I have some tea!”

“…I don’t see any?”

Violet kept talking. “Okay, so you know I run the strip joint in the capital, right? Well if you don’t, now you do. So, like – a couple of months ago I had just finished a show and you’d NEVER believe who walks in through the doors. _Ink!!!_ ”

While he spoke, Dream tried to be as polite as he could, and show the other that he was listening, but didn’t really engage himself in what was being said. However, the last bit of the story hooked his attention.

“Ink went to your… strip club? Why?? He’s asexual!”

“He didn’t come for the party, he came to see me. I was washing off makeup when he came in through the door, telling me he wanted to ask me something. I was all like ‘Oh okay fancy seeing you around here’ and he was like ‘yeah yeah, you can’t tell anybody I was here,’ and I was like ‘Why?’ and he was all ‘Oh just don’t it doesn’t matter.’ It was really weird because I had only met him once before and that was like – a while back but anyways, I’m getting sidetracked. The point remains – he still came to see me. He had this _really_ stern look on his face, and I had never seen him look like that before so I was like – a little bit worried but not really. Anyways, he sat down and then – not joking – asked me, _drop-dead serious:_ ‘How do you make love to someone?’”

Dream had now abandoned his smartphone and was completely engrossed in Violet’s tale. He couldn’t believe his figurative ears. “Ink… asked you that? Why?”

Violet gave a small laugh. “That’s just the thing! I don’t even know! It was so fucking weird and random that I just threw back my head and started laughing. I didn’t know what to _do_ with myself! So I asked him ‘Um… do you want like – tips or something? Or do you want to start from ground zero? That is, when two monsters love each other very much. Or like… a _demonstration?_ ’ and he said-“ Violet raised his hands to make air quotes. “’I don’t know that much about the practice and I am genuinely curious about how it functions.’ So, I just kinda talked. I don’t really remember what about, but whatever it was, you probably wouldn’t care to hear it anyways. So after like – fifteen minutes of listening to me go on about all this stuff that anyone with half a brain and some sort of affectionate drive would figure out on their own, he said ‘thanks’ and then left. Poof! Gone! I haven’t heard from him since!”

Violet’s voice had started to become nothing but noise and Dream’s thoughts began to wander, blocking off all noise. _Is Ink actually…?? Well, it could be a possibility, as much as I would like to say it’s not... He’s always searching for entertainment. Maybe this is a new activity he’s decided to try out to keep himself satisfied? It is always difficult to tell with him…_

He awoke to the sound of Violet snapping his fingers. “Hey, I’m still talking to ya. Do you think you know what any of that stuff meant? You’re like – his closest friend.”

“That I most certainly am.” Dream said, “But I am unaware of what he might be doing with such information.” He sighed and turned away, his eyes staring unfocused on the bottles of craft beer displayed on the shelves behind the bar. He began to feel nausea creep up on him as he spoke. “It is likely, however, that he is going out and partaking in such activities. Ink has always been known to do whatever he feels like doing in the moment, without anyone’s consent or approval, even if… it’s hideously immoral.”

Violet grimaced. “Hey… my practice isn’t ‘immoral’. It’s an art, dammit!”

“I’m not talking about you in particular. I meant it as an umbrella term for a lot of different things. You know what I mean…” Dream said, scowling.

“No, I really don’t.”

“He’s just been acting weird lately. That’s all you need to know…”

Violet pursed what could maybe be considered lips and drummed his acrylic nails on the counter languidly. “…You’re just making me more curious hon…”

“Okay FINE!” Dream said, raising his voice slightly in aggravation. It was like a dam had broken, and Dream began to spill everything he had had pent up inside of him.

“He’s just been distant, he hasn’t been as emotional as he usually is, he’s always late to our meetings, he never answers my texts, and the other day he was actively trying to defend the Destroyer, and that’s not even the tip of the iceberg! His _kids_ have even told me to keep an eye on him just in case he decides that he wants to discard his emotion vials! Most often than not he’s in a really foul mood, he’s been making biting remarks to everyone around him and I’m just worried! And even better than that he came into the meeting the other day wearing his scarf so he could cover up massive BRUISES ALONG HIS NECK!! I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON ANYMORE AND IT’S _DRIVING ME INSANE!!!_ ”

The protector of Dreams slammed his glass onto the table in a fit of rage, causing the whole establishment to fall silent. He sat there, breathing heavily before relaxing back into his seat and glancing at all the onlookers. “I apologize for my volume,” he said coolly. “Please resume your business, I became a little upset. Forgive me.”

Slowly, the rest of the bar went back to resuming its typical chatter, patrons turning back to talking amongst themselves. Not long after, the incessant hum of conversation was in the air once again. Dream turned his gaze back to Violet, who was looking at him with a shell-shocked expression. He had clearly not been expecting an outburst from Dream.

Violet scratched his cheek anxiously and put on a small, wavering smile. “If you don’t mind me replying… but you said he had… _bruises?_ ”

“Yes.” Dream responded calmly, all of his anger now released and replaced with crippling exhaustion. “All over his neck. Who knows if he had more.”

“Could I have… details? On what they looked like, I mean?”

Dream inhaled for a concerningly long amount of time before dropping his head into his arms, sullenly. “Why do you care.”

“Please??”

“… kind of circular. They ran down the sides of his neck, not the middle. They were kind of blackish, bluish, and reddish. And from what I saw they might have continued on his clavicle as well. Does that meet your standards of description, Dr. Violet?” Dream said sarcastically. He usually tried his best not to be mean, (and he didn’t consider himself ‘mean’ at that moment), but his patience was wearing thin and his frustration with the Guardian was affecting his interactions with everyone else.

Violet cleared his throat, and Dream didn’t like the wicked grin that stretched across his face. “Actually, _yes_ …” purred Violet. “And what’s more, I have a diagnosis. It seems like your friend has a bad case of hickies.”

Dream looked at him, not understanding. “Hickies?”

Violet nodded, looking down at Dream like he was superior. “I think little ol’ Inky’s out having himself a good time, if someone decided to snack at his neck like corn on the cob! Ha! I wonder if – Dream? Dream, are you okay?”

Dream had stopped listening. He rifled through his Sailor Moon wallet and pulled out 150G, leaving it on the counter for one of the bartenders to pick up. Without a word, he left the building, shutting the door politely behind him. As he stepped into the cold air of the Snowdin town, his mind felt like it was spinning a hundred miles an hour, and he almost collapsed into the soft white snow at his feet. Nothing was making sense, and Dream felt like he was now distant with someone he considered so close. Was Ink really not telling him anything? Perhaps Ink was getting bored again, and would start some crazy riot just to keep himself entertained? No, he can’t. Not with all the drama that’s already happening. Dream growled angrily into his gloved hands, before a ping from his smartphone distracted him from his virulent thoughts.

 **@alchemy001:** Dream, have you gotten in touch with Ink yet?

 **@☆sunbeam70☆:** no. he won’t pick up.

 **@alchemy001:** That’s a shame. I’m afraid I was perhaps too harsh with the destroyer?

 **@☆sunbeam70☆:** maybe

 **@alchemy001:** Well, we can talk about this another time. For now, I need your help with something. Could you pick up amnesia pills from the apothecary?

 **@☆sunbeam70☆:** …

 **@☆sunbeam70☆:** …why?

 **@alchemy001:** For Error. He’s too powerful for them to do any real damage to his memory, but Dr. Undyne thinks they will help him comply better and in turn be more submissive to requests. I personally don’t agree with her methodology but many of the other researchers on the board think it would be a good tool to use as well. They came to a consensus and seeing as it won’t really do any damage to him, I suppose it will be alright.

 **@☆sunbeam70☆:** …

 **@☆sunbeam70☆:** okay. I’ll get them. But you need to talk with Ink. Something’s wrong with him.

 **@alchemy001:** I am aware of his odd behavior. Is there anything else I should know?

~~I’m worried that he d~~

~~I think his vials are~~

~~He may possibly be in an amatory relation~~

~~I think he may be sleeping around wit~~

**@☆sunbeam70☆:** no. He’s just been acting odd. I think the Destroyer’s capture has us all a little rattled. I’ll be right over, Alchemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting back to the main plot next chapter lmao.
> 
> This was supposed to be a short scene in the beginning of one of the chapters but it ended up way longer so congrats it's its own chapter now


	6. Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error ain't doing so hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I wasn't going to use any OC's well guess what I liED
> 
> Also, I may need to rate this story as mature because I felt like a very mean person while writing it.

_“Did you hear, boss?”_

_“Who didn’t? I can’t believe it… I thought he was indomitable… perhaps it’s part of a plan?”_

_“No, it’s not - Ink was adamant about that and I trust his judgment. There was also a consideration to turn him into a weapon for the Omega Timeline and I fear that perhaps if that does come to pass, we could all be doomed.”_

_“...This is terrible… if the council possesses that much power at the moment, then I want no advances to be made on any timeline. We need time to prep. Get back out there, gather intel.”_

_“Of course, boss.”_

_“...actually, maybe we could use this to our advantage… if they’re distracted then perhaps they won’t expect us… or maybe if they’ve conditioned him well enough, we could use him?”_

_“... I dunno boss. I’m just a brainless shithead…”_

_“Don’t you use that fucking tone of voice with me. Or you’re spending five days in the dark again.”_

_“...fine.”_

_“Find out more information about his imprisonment. Figure out what they’re going to do to him and then we’ll set up our own plan of attack.”_

_“... I thought he was our ‘friend’. Shouldn’t we save him because, well, he’s on our side?”_

_“Oh, that’s right. I forgot that you’re incredibly stupid. He’s not our ally, he works for himself. He likes us because we help him do his job. And we are happy to do so. But he has hindered many of our invasions because he feels entitled to do whatever the hell he wants, whenever he wants and doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. With him out of the way, it will be easier, but… if he IS trained… he will be very valuable.”_

_“...He most certainly will. From what I’ve seen, he doesn’t have any emotional attachments with anyone, not even his own kids. It won’t be hard to get him to kill them if we have that chance.”_

_“Hm… what if we use him against the council? Ha! That would really be something, to see everything they work for fall apart? I’d love to see my weakling of a brother struggling…”_

_“I’m just going to go now. Have fun daydreaming.”_

_“What did I say about back talking me you lowlife?”_

_“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, boss.”_

_“You better be sorry. Go. Now.”_

\----------~*~*~---------- 

The council prison was a rather secure establishment. Its goal, keep the baddies away from all the innocents of the universe. And so far, it had been working pretty well. Fifteen floors underground, prison cells were monitored by highly trained guards. There were about 90 prisoners in total, most of them infamous Genociders, who had decided to side with Nightmare and create unbelievable carnage. Majority of those who were captured were well off their rocker and weren’t allowed to roam out of their cells - too dangerous to interact with other people if they can’t even interact with a mirror without destroying it. 

The other prisoners, the ones who still have a portion of their sanity intact, are treated like typical prisoners. They and their other inmates were granted the ability to live a fairly regulated but nice life in their cells. They had bunkmates, there were remedial classes, and if the council believed them to be reformed enough, they would let them go and gain citizenship in the Omega Timeline. It wasn’t an inhumane system, and those who were locked away were far from innocent, everyone knew it. Each one had their own counselor or therapist, and even those who didn’t want to cooperate with the council were never tortured, but only held to keep them from injuring anybody else. Even Dust, who came from a universe where the resets drove him to the brink of insanity, was on the verge of recovering and had begun to feel happy with the promise of a new, better life.

Their resolve to deal with issues in a compassionate way, beneficial for all parties involved held strong throughout their democratic rule, and they never did anything they didn’t consider necessary. 

The topic of the Destroyer slightly bent these unspoken rules of ethical treatment.

A few had tried to argue that the Destroyer was just another skeleton - no different than the others and that if he were to be locked away, they ought to do it like the other inmates. But after running a scan on his soul, and seeing the device immediately fizz and combust with an overload of input, they realized that conditions such as those would not suit him. It would be all too easy for him to escape and slaughter everyone. The thought of typical imprisonment was considered several times, but his settings had already been predetermined by some of the most genius minds on the team. Countless hours of research to find the most effective strategy to nullify Error’s power couldn’t go to waste, so the few that stood up for him were disheartened to hear that he would be taken to the facility that had been built specifically for him.

A facility two more floors below the prison, almost a mile underground. They had been preparing for his capture for several years, and almost didn’t expect it to come anymore, but now that the day had finally come, people were scrambling around, trying to follow the planned procedure and keep him sedated while they got everything in order.

It took a while for them to fully set up his more “permanent” conditions, so for a more temporary space, he was placed in a small cell. None of the restraints were taken off of him, and while he had been unconscious, both of his arms were tied to the walls of the metal enclosure. It only had one window, from where people would watch him, take notes or discuss what to do with him. He didn’t cause any trouble until he woke up. With his speech and sight restricted, he immediately began to panic, his limbs twitching and thrashing, muffled yells through the muzzle. They had to shock him three times before he stopped screaming.

With the collar, they quickly made him understand what behaviors would result in a volt, and even though he still struggled, he slowly but surely became more cooperative. It was like he was fighting an internal battle, on whether to keep his dignity and never give in to them, or accept his fate and resign all attempts at rebellion. His conflict was obvious because he’d go silent for an entire hour and then, without any warning, start writhing and screaming until the voltage had to be raised to 150 to get him to finally shut up.

His body hung limply from the restraints, fabricated with a magical, near indestructible material. Typical iron chains would be as effective as macaroni links - he could have broken them with a simple tug. And especially in his enraged state, letting him escape would result in nothing but a stream of death.

Only after a whole 24 hours of this treatment did someone remind them about food, which sent many of the researchers into a panic. What would they give him? And how? The options were to let him feed himself, which would have to have several of the restraints loosened and removed, or they could spoon feed him, but absolutely no one liked the idea of that. So, they settled on the prison food that had been given to the others, and let him feed himself, only slightly stretching the length of the chains to accommodate. They weren’t surprised when he snapped the tray in half and sandwiched all the food between the plastic, eating it like a crispy shelled taco.

Alchemy spent a good deal of his time in the containment facility with the other members, helping to monitor his behavior and make sure he wasn’t put through anything unnecessary. Dream had made it clear that he didn’t want to see the broken Destroyer before he figured out what was going on with Ink. Many of the workers had lost many of their family and friends to him, and such had strong biases. Alchemy had to act as a moderator, for if he wasn’t there, he feared they might have scorched Error’s bones or shocked him into dust. And more than one of the workers wanted desperately for that to become more than fantasy.

However, The God of Magic, even though he tried to protest any gratuitous suffering, found Error completely fascinating in all aspects. His sporadic, unpredictable attitude, the way his body was never satisfied with being completely physical - occasionally glitching and displaying ‘error’ messages, and his near animalistic behavior towards them. It was, as Alchemy said, not only the repression of the multiverse’s greatest criminal but a breakthrough in scientific discovery. Those who leaned more towards hating the Destroyer’s very existence were more insistent that it was “mind-breaking torture”, but as much as they wished that to be the case, Alchemy had to set limits.

Then, after two days of keeping the Destroyer chained to the wall, blinded, speechless and shocked into tranquility, they finally finished setting up his more permanent confinement. Unable to see what was happening, he was only aware that someone was in the room with him when he heard their footsteps and felt their hand on his chin. He began to twitch and shake under the physical contact, but the guard didn’t care, undoing the muzzle over his mouth.

He took advantage of his freedom for the brief moment he had it. “DON’T _TOUCH M-”_

Another shock, higher this time, and he opened his mouth to scream and suddenly something was popped inside, and the guard slammed his jaw shut and held it there. He froze, unable to stop the small shakes that racked his body as his mind was flooded with raw panic. The hand still squeezed tightly on his bone, wordlessly ordering him to swallow. And he did. Finally, the hand let go, and Error began swinging his head back and forth wildly, trying to rid the memory of someone else’s touch. The muzzle instantly snapped back on, and he heard the footsteps walk away, and the door slide shut.

The thing he had swallowed was small and oval-shaped, with a smooth texture. With what he could feel, it seemed to be some sort of pill. He tried to hack it up, but the thing had already dissolved, leaving him furiously coughing in vain.

After thirty minutes, the effects kicked in.

His brain became muddled, and every time he tried to think, his mind would almost forcefully shut down. He became confused, nothing made sense anymore.

He couldn’t see. Oh god why couldn’t he see?

What had he done?

The door to his small room opened, and this time there was more than one pair of feet approaching him. He was pushed up to stand by more people, and led away by the arms, writing in their hold to escape the horrid feeling of some other creature’s fingers on his arm bones. His brain was clouded, and all that he could see was black. He couldn’t remember why he was here. Hell, where was here? He jostled in their grip again, planting his feet on the ground and trying to halt their movements, only to be zapped again. Oh yeah. That was for when he did something wrong, wasn’t it?

Maybe if he was well behaved, they wouldn’t do that anymore.

His small hypothesis was proven true as he cooperated for the rest of the walk, shock-free. The figures were still rough with him, but if he suppressed his cries of discomfort and borderline pain upon being touched and jostled, they wouldn’t get mad at him. So, he bit his tongues and stayed silent.

After what seemed like an hour, they stopped walking. Even though he was completely blind to the world around him, he could feel the change in atmosphere. The air was colder, and his bare feet curled around hard tiles. He could hear murmuring and the clinking of metal from all around him, and when the two hands on his arms finally let go, he sighed in relief.

Then the metal blindfold was removed.

Light flooded his eyes, and he squinted and looked away, the brightness overwhelming him. He blinked until his vision could adjust to being free of the ever-present darkness. There, right in front of him, was a face, only two inches away, holding his blindfold in their hands.

He yelled and leapt backward, almost tripping, and unable to catch himself because of the metal cuffs around his arms, but he was caught by a mysterious figure behind him and pushed back upwards. It was all too much. He was going through a sensory overload after being cut off for so long. He couldn’t remember the last time he had the blindfold off - all he knew was what was happening right here, and right now.

The monster in front of him hushed him as he panicked, eyes darting frantically around the room. He didn’t recognize anything. He was in a sort of laboratory - the walls were white and now that his vision had adjusted, he could see that the room was rather dimly lit. The people beside him were guards - almost two feet taller than Error was, glaring down at him with hate. The Destroyer cowered fearfully under their gaze and turned to look at the more welcoming one.

She was a cat monster, with a calico color scheme and bright green eyes. She fiddled with the small glasses on the bridge of her pink nose and looked to him with curiosity.

She spoke softly. “Do you know why you are here?”

The question made the glitch freeze. Where had he come from? Why _was_ he here? No, he knew why. He had done something bad. He could remember a blurry image of being tied down to a table. What had he done though? His brain was all fuzzy, and he could only pick warped and nonsensical images from his head. What was going on? Who even was he? Everything hurt…

He shook his head and gave her a sad look, the cat giving him a small smile in return. “That’s okay. Right now, though, I’m going to need you to follow our directions, okay? It’s very important that you do so.”

He looked up into her eyes, and then craned his neck to the side, to get a better view of where he was.

The calico cat was not the only scientist in the lab. Monsters of all shapes and sizes, dressed in lab coats, stood around the room anxiously watching him. There was a low ceiling, but the width of the room accommodated for that. Machines of unknown purpose to him were strewn all about the room, magic pulsing through glass and wires draped across the floor. He wondered what it was all for. For him maybe? He hoped not. He just needed to listen to these people. Then maybe everything would make sense again.

He looked back to the cat once again and slowly nodded. Right after he did so, she made a small motion with her hands, and the muzzle was taken off his mouth by his guards. He gasped in delight but did not speak, in fear that he may upset the scientists. The cat seemed indifferent to his reaction and stood up, walking back to her colleagues. Error shuffled nervously while she spoke with them in low voices, but he managed to catch a few snippets of conversation.

“...on the pills. He’s virtually harmless now and he may-“

“...can’t recall how many…”

“...not on purpose. We are not going to scare him…”

“...As a manipulator…”

“A weapon?”

“...kindness. Like a child… when it wears off...”

Error looked down at his toes and wiggled them while he waited. He suspected that they were talking about him, but he didn’t know what it meant. What pill? Did they give him medicine? He tried to think back, with little hope, before suddenly the feeling of a slimy pill down his throat burned at the forefront of his memory. He _was_ drugged - he could remember! Now the more difficult thing to do was to sort out the useless mess of colors and voices his other memories had become.

The cat returned to him, grinning down at him warmly. “We’re going to come this way now, okay?”

He nodded up to her and the guards began to shove him towards the direction the calico indicated. He passed many scientists on the way, choosing to meet none of their gazes in fear. There was one who stood out though. He wasn’t dressed in a white coat like the rest of them were, but instead wore a big draping black cloak, that rippled on the ground even without wind. The purple and shiny trim of the cloak caught his attention though, and he tried to grab at it thoughtlessly, only to have another shock administered. He looked up at the owner of the cloak and his mind immediately swirled. This monster had appeared in Error’s memories, he knew it. But where? And why?

...he was very tall. And important looking. He didn’t seem to have any expression on his face, concerning Error deeply. He was not good: that was all his crumbling mind offered him.

The guards flanked him as they walked to one side of the room, and Error kept his eyes on the floor. They weren’t touching him anymore, he was glad, but it didn’t stop him from curling his arms around himself in fear that they may try to do so again. He wondered if all the scientists in the white coats were going to do things with him, like experiments. He hoped not. He just wanted to know what was going on - his thoughts were almost becoming painful, the way they pounded on his skull with no direction or sense to them.

They got to where they need to go, and Error looked up. It was a box. No, it was too big to be a box, but not big enough to be a room. It was like a cube, but its sides were made of glass. Or plastic, he couldn’t tell. He just knew the walls were transparent. The edges were outlined in steel, and it sat on a small elevated platform in the corner, wires and tubes running around the back. He looked to the friendly cat monster, unsure of what he was supposed to do with this thing.

She didn’t look to him, and one of the scientists, a taller and orange scaled Alphys, began to fiddle with a small keypad next to the thing. One of the cube’s faces swung open like a door, allowing access into the small container. Error looked to her for guidance, feeling his scarcely clothed form starting to tremble. Was he going to go in? Was something going to come out? He didn’t know, and he was starting to get scared. He didn’t know anything.

The cat monster could see Error become distressed and bent down in front of him, but not touching. Even though he was the “Destroyer of Universes,” he was still a Sans and was thus stacked up pretty short. Even with tales of his terrifying appearance, Error just barely passed five feet by half an inch. The calico cat monster was almost two more feet taller than him, and in her eyes, he looked exactly like a scared little kid.

“Sshhhhh…” she said, trying to soothe him. Error’s chest just kept rising faster and faster, his eyes darting around with utter terror. She turned her head to where Error’s eyes were fixated, trying to get his attention. She gave calming him down another shot. “Hey. Can you look at me?”

He slowly worked up enough nerve to cast his quivering eyelights up to her, almost on the verge of crying. He was sure she could see his eyes becoming misty. She looked at him, completely baffled, but Error didn’t know what about.

The cat gave her most reassuring smile. “We need you to go inside that box, right now. It’s important that you do so. Nobody will hurt you.”

“…you promise?” he said, his voice so soft she almost didn’t catch it. The entire lab was dead silent, watching on with awe.

The calico didn’t respond immediately, and her stare was locked on a random spot on the wall, and her lips tightened. She eventually looked to Error, with a smile that was all too strained. He didn’t like it.

“I… I promise…” She said. “Now, can you go inside? I’m trying to be as gentle as I can, but if you don’t go quickly, I’m scared they might touch and shock you again.”

Spurred on by the fear of being handled roughly by the guards, he slowly climbed in, ignoring the spears at the back of his head, nearly scraping his skull as he climbed in. It was difficult with his hands bound behind his back, but he managed to crawl through and sit in the tiny space. It must have pleased the people watching him because he didn’t receive any more shocks. Backing himself towards the corner of the cube, he sat and waited patiently for them to do something. He didn’t know what. Or maybe he would have to sit here for all eternity?

Error watched one of the scientists, a human girl, lean over and whisper something to another, smirking. Both watched him with smug smiles like he was an inside joke between the two. He didn’t look at them anymore.

The door slowly shut, and Error let out a small noise of panic, but nothing else besides that. The tall skeleton in the swirly black cloak still watched him intently, mouth curved into neither a smile or a frown. Error looked down at the floor. If he pretended they weren’t all staring at him, maybe he could think more clearly.

Suddenly, his arms zipped upwards out from behind him, and the cuffs split in half, each one glued to the wall behind him. He looked up to his arms and balled his hands in fists, trying to loosen the hold it had on him, but it was no use. He was stuck to the box now.

“Hey, relax, it’s okay. Everything’s okay…” The relaxing voice of the cat talking through the glass made him feel a tad bit better but didn’t dispel his panic. He began to yell, for someone, anyone to let him out, tell him what’s happening. No one did.

He kept yanking on the restraints in a show of resistance, and the collar buzzed again, and he yelped, falling silent. He closed his eyes, trying not to cry. _It’s okay, it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay…_

He felt something soft brush against his forehead, and when he opened his eyes, he was met with nothing but blackness. Blindfolded again, just refreshing his anxiety. 

“This is just to calm you down a little bit,” she said. “I don’t want you to freak out. Nothing will hurt. Just close your eyes, okay?”

Close his eyes? He was already blinded and immobile, what good would that do? His fear spiked again but another zap brought him down from his high. Did they want him to fall asleep? Maybe…

He was left waiting for a few minutes, alone in the box. Trying to distract himself, he let his bound hands glide across the glass. Now that he took a moment to really absorb his surroundings, if he hadn’t seen his environment beforehand, he might have thought the walls were made of steel. He rapped his knuckles against the surface. It was very thick and probably extremely difficult to break. Feeling his way around some more, he noticed there was something else if he stretched his fingers up as high as he could go. He made every attempt to push his hands higher up to see what it was that he felt. They were small holes in the cube, and he started to feel around the edges with his metal-tipped fingers. He didn’t know how deep they went, but they weren’t very wide. Maybe airholes?

He could hear murmuring from outside of the small box and he immediately retracted his hands. He was starting to feel a little bit claustrophobic. He felt like he preferred wide open spaces, big expanses of nothingness… kind of like… space! Yes, that was somewhere he liked to go! To see the stars…!

He wished he could see the stars right now.

Commotion was heard from the other lab people, and suddenly he felt something placed on top of his mouth. He started to turn his head and shake, not wanting to have that dastardly muzzle on his face again but then realized that it wasn’t the muzzle at all. It was something different, and it made a ring around his mouth and nasal cavity and didn’t wrap around his head with straps. He stuck one of his tongues out when he didn’t feel anything come into contact with his teeth, to test what exactly had been placed on him. It was plastic, he was pretty sure, and he deduced it was kind of cone-shaped from what he was able to gather by licking its surface. A very weak zap made him shove his tongue back into his mouth and when his legs twitched in surprise, he could feel a corrugated pipe brush against his knees, most likely attached to the cone around his mouth.

It was a gas mask, and almost the second he realized it, he began to feel incredibly sleepy. He no longer had the energy for anything anymore. The air he inhaled felt weird and much too thick, and even underneath the blindfold, his eyes began to close. Maybe he should close his eyes, just like the nice cat woman said. He would be okay. It was all fine. But he wanted to think about something happy as he fell asleep.

What made him happy? He thought, his consciousness barely holding on.

His mind supplied him with the image of two rainbow-colored eyes, always shifting, and a bright and happy smile.

He felt his soul suddenly warm. He didn’t know who they belonged to, or why they made his being light up with joy, but they did. A sleepy smile slowly crawled onto his face as he drifted off, dreaming of someone with luminescent, colorful eyes.

The nozzles above his hands began to fill the tank up with water.

\----------~*~*~----------

Swapfell’s own Dr. Undyne grinned at her coworker with a mouthful of yellowed fangs. “Well done, Dr. Molly. You handled him very nicely.”

The calico cat monster glared harshly at her and took off her glasses. Small, angry tears hovered in her eyes. “Don’t expect me to do that again,” she spat. “I will be happy to make sure that he stays calm and reassured that at least one person on this goddamn team is looking out for his wellbeing. But I forcibly _refuse_ to hush him like a child and feed him lies because you drugged him into memory loss!”

Undyne’s smile never wavered. “I don’t think you understand… he’s a sociopathic murderer… we’re doing everyone a service by getting rid of him… no more pain, no more suffering… isn’t that a dream of yours? A world of peace and harmony?”

“Yes, of course.” Molly didn’t back down. “I understand your reasoning, but I don’t know why Error had to be conscious for such an operation. Why couldn’t we put him under before we did that? Why did you have to reduce his behavior to that of a frightened toddler! At least let him know why he’s going into a goddamn coma for the rest of his life!”

“I don’t see why we have to.” Undyne said nonchalantly, turning away from Molly and hanging her lab coat up, leaving her only in a black turtleneck. “If he _is_ going to be in a coma the rest of his life, then he’s not going to have the chance to wake up. Suppose we do run a couple… _tests_ on him, his body will still be completely unresponsive, his mind blank.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Quit beating around the bush. Why did he have to be conscious.”

Undyne looked at her with something resembling annoyance, before bursting out into laughter. “Alright, fine, you caught me. He didn’t have to be awake. We could have put him under for the transfer, but I wanted to test the effects of the pills. If you or I took those pills, we would have our brains permanently wiped of everything we’ve ever known or experienced, including speech, motor skills, and basic comprehension of the world around us. Everything would be gone. For him? He still kept all of those, and I’m certain that his memories were simply repressed, and in about one hour, the effects will wear off. That was a 10-milligram tablet. According to rather simple stoichiometry, to actually wipe his slate clean would take a thousand times more.”

Molly was silent before her face began to blow up in anger. “You mean to tell me you could have let him stay peacefully unaware of all this shit that _you’re doing and you-“_

“Hush, darling,” she cooed. “It’s alright. I got the data I needed. All other tests will be run with no physical interactions. He’s lights out, Dr. Molly.”

“And how am I supposed to trust you?” Her tail flicked about angrily, and she leaned against the cool metal wall of the lab.

“I suggest you should,” said Undyne slowly. She pressed a sharp finger to a small button on the dashboard and spoke into a tiny microphone. “Alchemy, may I speak with you please? I’m in room 013.”

She looked back up to Molly. “You know he doesn’t deserve your sympathy, but you give it to him anyways. Ever since we brought him in, you’ve been fussing about his treatment. Why? Don’t you know how many people he’s slaughtered like pigs? The footage they have of his bloodstained hands, ripping through flesh like its fabric? The monsters and humans he’s turned into his brainless army of puppets, which he considers disposable? Do you understand he wants everything and everyone dead? ”

She was silent, before growling. “You’re no better yourself, ‘Miracle worker’. I’ve heard about the things you’ve done back in Swapfell. You stitched together bodies like crochet dolls. You have no right to talk about him killing people like it’s a bad thing. At least he has the excuse of insanity, you ignoble scissor-licking rat.”

Undyne’s face contorted in rage, and the door swung open. Alchemy ghosted his way inside, not looking at either researcher and not reading the tension in the room. 

“How goes the process? Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Undyne said, shooting one last poisonous gaze at the calico cat. “All his vitals have frozen, but he’s still alive.”

“…and you’re sure it’s not hurting him?” Alchemy said. “You know I didn’t think the pills were an ethical choice. If he’s unable to understand why he’s being locked away, or who he is for that matter, isn’t it just even more gratuitous psychological damage?”

“Would you rather have him kicking, screaming, and swiping gashes into our legs?”

“I’d prefer him unconscious. Our job is to keep him away from others. Not drag him through hell.”

Undyne rolled her eyes. “Tch. Trust me, old man, he’s fine.”

Alchemy nodded his head solemnly. “He better be. I’m going to get into touch with Ink. He needs to understand what is going on down here. I’m afraid he may be more sensitive to this topic than we thought, and everyone knows that Ink is not one to trifle with. Don’t make any rash decisions while I’m away, doctor, or you aren’t going to be tending to the prisoners but joining them.”

Pulling her bun into place, she disregarded Alchemy. “Yeah yeah, I get it. Trust me, the pills are for if he has to wake up. It’s better for him that way – otherwise, it would be impossible to deal with. He puts more trust in us as well, and Dr. Molly here’s already gaining his affection.”

Molly’s ears fell flat against her head and she glared at the other, emitting a soft, brief growl from the back of her throat. “… I don’t wish to be involved with any sort of indoctrination, Alchemy. I am here as part of the researching team. I don’t want to brainwash a sentient creature into trusting people he should be doing the opposite with. I know that something’s going to happen, because of the way we’re treating him. I bet he’s going to escape, and then his rage will be greater than ever. And what about all of his allies and followers that may come looking for him? He has quite the cult following. We’re poking a sleeping bear, Alchemy, and I don’t like it.”

Alchemy sighed. “…I’m sorry you feel this way. But trust me, this is an extremely secure facility. It is physically impossible to teleport onto this floor, and access is only granted to those I allow. I will make sure that Error is never used as an object or ‘trained’ into obeying commands, like I’m sure Dr. Undyne wants. That will never come to pass. However, as… immoral as she tends to be, Dr. Undyne’s ideas almost always work with remarkable success. Have a little faith in her, Molly. She will be regulated.”

The calico cat turned her gaze to the floor. “She better…”

Walking out of the room without another word, she began preparing a mental list of things she would need in order to make Error feel comfortable. They couldn’t keep him like that forever, or he’d dust, and she knew if they were to take him out of the tank, he’d be given another pill and chained to the wall. Maybe she could convince them to let her visit him? Be a figure he could trust not to cause him harm, or demand anything from him? Perhaps…

The laboratory halls were dark. It fits the mood of this place, she thought. Molly passed only a few other researchers, collecting papers or fetching things from their workspaces. But other than that, she was alone. Everyone else was in the room with Error, but she didn’t want to go back and be one of the spectators that gawked at him like an animal on display. She wanted the ethical treatment of prisoners, and was that too much to ask for?

She came to a stop. Room 007 was on her left. Undyne’s office.

Molly paused, for a brief moment, and turned around. No one was behind her, and no one was in front of her either. Could she…?

_Just a quick peek,_ she decided, slipping into the office and shutting the door behind her before anyone would notice. Her heart was racing, and she put a paw over her chest in an effort to steady herself. What had she just done?? She was sneaking into her demented boss’ office without permission!! What if she was caught?? She’d be sacked! Exiled from the Omega Timeline!

No. Focus. It’s fine. It’s all fine. She slowly took several deep breaths and continued into the room. It was a small, cramped space, and looked surprisingly organized. Judging on what type of person Undyne was, she had expected the walls to be covered in fresh blood – she saw now that wasn’t the case. It looked just like Molly’s own private workspace, albeit a little bit bigger. A large desk was pushed up against the wall in the back, covered in scratch paper with calculators sprawled across the tabletop. Nothing too suspicious. 

She approached the drawers and began to open and close them one by one, making sure not to disturb any items, for fear Undyne may notice. There was virtually nothing of interest. Simply office supplies, along with the occasional medical tool. There was also a jar of silly putty in one of Undyne’s desk drawers, which confused Molly to no end. After ten more minutes of going through every drawer, she could find, nothing except normal lab equipment and papers resulted in her search.

Molly sighed. Of course. She was just getting herself worked up. Undyne didn’t have anything to hide. She may have been more than a little crazy, but she still worked for Alchemy. Her past was not the most harmonious either, so there was room for some odd behaviors, but still. She didn’t mean any real harm – Undyne was doing what she thought was best for the Omega Timeline. God, Molly needed to think these through before barging in on someone’s private space.

She did one last check around the room to make sure everything looked in order, and then straightened her coat. She was about to head to the door when her eye caught something that she had missed before. The papers on the desktop.

Molly had been so busy searching through the drawers and filing cabinets, she had neglected to search the most obvious place of all. On the desk, there was a tan folder, hidden underneath pieces of scratch paper. She gently brushed the other papers out of the way and picked up the folder.

_CLASSIFIED_

She was immediately intrigued and made one last glance towards the doorway. Inside the folder was one single sheet of paper, which slipped out easily into her hand. She set the folder down onto the table and began to read over the title.

And promptly felt her heart plummet into her stomach. The three words at the top were already too much. She read over the paper with a cursory glance and immediately tucked it away, rushing out of the room as fast as she could, trying not to pass out while she sprinted away from the crime scene.

But she didn’t tuck the paper into the folder properly. The top of the page was sticking out, it’s title in a professional font, bolded and underlined:

**EUTHANIZATION PROCESS: ERROR**

\----------~*~*~----------

A Papyrus passed the open doorway and peered inside. He wore a lab coat with picture ID and dress shoes, as well as small, black sunglasses over his eyes, even though it was so dark inside the lab already. His face was contracted into a stern expression. He went inside Undyne’s office after making sure Molly was well on her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fortnite dances into the void*
> 
> Again - this was supposed to be a small thing but now it's B I G so yay it's a chapter :)


	7. Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ink gets a look at what's goin' on down in the hell hole that is the lab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter isn't very exciting hyeEEt

Ink had been incommunicado for five days.

Dream had tried texting Ink’s children to see where he was, but even PJ and Gray didn’t seem to know. It was unusual for him to go so long without saying anything, or even complaining. Ink was the type of person who, when seeing something he didn’t approve of, would rant and rave until he got it to his liking. So if he had a problem with the capture, wouldn’t he say something?

That’s what Dream was hoping for, but even with one text every hour, the Creator never picked up. All of Dream’s messages were marked as read, but it was like Ink was purposefully ignoring him. Dream was being ‘ghosted’, as all the kids said these days. He had picked that terminology up from Reaper once. Now he really understood the implication of it, though.

He had thought of everything he could to try and get Ink’s attention but nothing had worked, until Alchemy had sent Dream a message, telling the Protector of Dreams to ask Ink if he wanted a ‘tour’ of Error’s containment facility.

Ink responded with ‘yes. What time’ within ten seconds of Dream sending the message.

\----------~*~*~----------

“You’re sure everything is ready?” Alchemy asked, standing over Undyne’s shoulder. “Ink will be coming any minute now, and I don’t want him to think we’re running a torture ring.”

“You stress too much, old man…” She said, still keeping her eyes trained on an object through the window. Her hands fiddled with buttons, dials, and switches that only she fully knew how to operate. She reached a hand out and her finger rested on a switch, and she gently flicked it. A small humming noise began to permeate the room.

She stood up and wiped her brow. “He should be stabilized. I’ll temporarily stop the hourly administration of sedatives for right now. He shouldn’t become conscious, anyways, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Do you not remember the last time you decided to fiddle around with his controls?” Alchemy asked. “He started spasming and screaming! You can’t just _assume_ that he’s in too much pain to wake up!”

“Who’s running this operation, huh?”

“Well, who’s running _you?_ ”

Undyne gave him a cold glare and returned to her work. “It doesn’t matter, anyways. Do you think The Creator will be impressed with my work?”

The God of Magic sighed and sat on a small swivel chair, his head in his hands. He took his skull into his hands. “I can only hope so. He’s been acting so… weird about it. It is literally impossible to understand that guy!”

Another button was pressed on the large dashboard, and Undyne visibly relaxed, sinking into an identical chair and adjusting her lab coat. “He’s soulless, isn’t he? Man, would I _kill_ to find out what kinds of stuff is keeping him alive… without a _soul!"_

Alchemy scowled at her threateningly and she immediately backtracked. “Hey hey, just a thought. I do _not_ plan on implementing any sort of procedure for Ink. It was only a wild idea that popped into my mind.”

“And it will only _stay_ an idea. Do not think because I’m letting you contain the Destroyer of Universes, the Harbinger of Destruction, I’m going to let you pull apart people like dolls.”

“Again, I’m just thinking out loud. You’ve never wondered how people work before?”

“I have. But I don’t wonder what tool would be most effective for sawing limbs off.”

“Eh, fair enough.”

The two fell into another awkward silence, and Alchemy leaned forward, resting his chin on a closed fist and staring ponderously at the ground. He began to speak his mind, unprompted.

“This is what Ink wanted, wasn’t it? Now there won’t be anything getting in the way of his creations. The multiverse will boom, timelines will split into more timelines and Ink will find a million new variants of emotion to fill up those little bottles he has. Because when it comes down to it, we all know that Ink is more of a neutral figure. I can see that he’s trying his best to be the ‘good guy’ but deep down all of us, including him, know that he’s desperate to fill the void where his soul is. And this will help him achieve it. But I don’t understand why he’s so upset about this. He and Error hate each other…”

“Yeah, they do. The day they came barreling through Swapfell they nearly killed twenty people. They’re both out of control.”

“You’ve killed more than that.”

She shrugged. “And? It was for science!”

Alchemy sucked in a harsh breath and turned his gaze to the wall. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you again. Get it together and try not to do anything psychotic in front of Ink or I will have the chefs dice you into sushi.”

“Ouch. That’s offensive.” Undyne didn’t look offended at all, smiling at him with a grin that could crack a mirror.

“Just please do as I’m asking. It’s really not that difficult. And besides, we need him in good condition if you truly want to run those tests…”

“Trust me, everything will be fine. I’ll keep him unconscious so he doesn’t need to know, and everything will get done to our benefit. It’s a win-win! No suffering for him, more advancements for science!”

Alchemy turned away and muttered. “…seems like everything you do is for ‘science’. I’m as much of a fan of formulating experiments and conducting them as you are, Doctor. But please don’t take this further than it has to go. Ink has made it clear that he’s not happy with whatever we’ve done, so we need to show him that there’s nothing evil happening to Error. We are containing him for his heinous crimes and studying his power. We are not purposefully torturing him.”

Undyne snorted. “Feels like torture to me!”

He glared at her again, this time with a burning fury in his eyes. “I swear, one more snide comment from you and you’ll be locked up and paired with a therapist in a split second. You are on _extremely_ thin ice. Understood?”

Saying nothing, the doctor rolled her eyes, making it seem like she wasn’t intimidated when in truth, she was actually frightened. Nobody picked a fight with Alchemy.

A small buzz broke the tense moment and Alchemy reached for his cellphone, squinting at the screen and tapping at it with his index finger. “Ink’s here.” He said, after a few moments. “C’mon, let’s go. And don’t do anything braindead – he already doesn’t like you, and it’s not good to have Ink as your enemy.”

“Roger that, mom.”

Alchemy tightened his boney lips and strode off down the corridor, his hands professionally clasped behind his back. Undyne gave the unconscious Error one last look before going to meet the Creator.

\----------~*~*~----------

As they rode down the elevator, Dream looked to his friend and smiled at him reassuringly. Ink had been in a surprisingly better state than Dream had previously thought. The Guardian of the AUs greeted him with a bright smile when Dream came to pick him up. Even better, all the vials on his sash were replete and glowing bright with the potential energy of use. He had said his hellos rather cheerfully to his friend and apologized for not picking up the phone. Dream made a show of not caring, and Ink giggled at the other’s reaction. It was like the Ink that everyone knew and loved had returned.

The descent of sixteen floors was an experience that left both of them feeling a little shaken. It was an unnerving event, but a two-minute ride in a cramped metal elevator surrounded by nothing but rock wasn’t the worst the duo had faced before. When the doors finally slid open, Ink stretched his arms up and stepped out. “Whew,” he said. “That’s enough elevator for me!”

Dream followed him out and adjusted the small, white cloak he wore around his shoulders today. “I’m glad you’re feeling better Ink. You had me really worried!”

Ink waved a hand at him and stuck his tongue out. “Ah, don’t worry about it! You know me, sometimes my vials can get a little bit crazy! To tell you the truth… “ Ink looked left and right over his shoulder suspiciously. “…I had run out. The day that you saw me reacting to Error I only had half of my emotions in store. All of them negative, since I had exhausted my supply of positive. So… I’m sorry for acting so weird these past few days.”

“Oh, no problem!” Dream said, smiling brightly. “Trust me, I totally get it. Take all the time you need, friend!”

The two were stopped suddenly by the sound of approaching footsteps and turned to straighten themselves out. Alchemy stepped around the corner, followed by Swapfell Undyne, a tall, male Frisk in a lab coat, and a Calico Cat monster.

Alchemy approached them warmly. “Greetings, Ink. Thank you for taking up my offer. I trust you are feeling better?”

“Yeah, totally!” Ink gave his signature grin. “You know me! I kinda cycle through mood swings, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, are they running out too soon?” Alchemy inquired. “I’m sure with a few modifications of the formula I can get them to stay in your system longer…”

The artist smiled, his eyes shifting to an upside-down teardrop and a green star. “Honest, it’s alright. I’m just careless and forget to fill them on time.”

Alch smiled down at Ink. Of course it slipped his mind. If the end of existence was approaching, Ink would probably forget it was even happening unless he wrote it down on his scarf. Even now, Alch could see the tail of his tan scarf covered in little black illegible scribbles. He couldn’t read any of them, but he knew that whatever the artist had written down must have been put there in the past few days, the marker was bright and most likely fresh.

“So…” Ink said, rocking on his heels. “Who are those people?”

A surprised expression hit Alchemy’s face and he hit a palm to his forehead. “Gosh, how rude of me. Well, you already know Dr. Undyne-“

“Pleasure to see you again,” Undyne replied.

“- And over here we have one of the apprentices, Molly-“

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you in person,” Molly said, accompanied with a respectful bow of her head.

“- And this is Frisk, but he goes by Silver in the Omega Timeline.”

Silver gave a small wave, and nothing else.

Ink approached Molly, with small starry eyes which twirled in his sockets as he swept his gaze across every inch of her with a grin. “I love the color of your fur!” He declared, walking around her to better take in her form.

Molly blushed and straightened her spectacles. “Um… thank you, Ink.”

“And you!” Ink approached Silver, and his eyes went about as wide as a Frisk’s eyes could manage. “I love the color of your hair. Such a nice shade of platinum. And you’re so tall! Unlike most Frisks, you’re what, six feet???” Ink bounced around him, poking his lab coat and tugging on his sleeves.

Silver was looking like he was caught doing something highly illegal and wore the most uncomfortable expression one was physically capable of making. It was clear he did not like being spoken too, and stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do.

Ink eventually became bored with circling him and returned back to Dream’s side, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry about that. I get a little bit excited when I meet someone I haven’t met before.”

Silver gave Ink a shaky thumbs up and Molly gave him a reassuring smile. Undyne did nothing and stared at both Ink and Dream like they were foolish toddlers.

Not even once did Ink look in Dr. Undyne’s direction, and instead, he focused his attention on his surroundings. “Nice building you’ve got here. I didn’t know you guys had built a place specifically for Error!”

“I had told you several times, actually.” Alchemy proclaimed. “Come to think of it, I had told everyone on the dang council, but you’re always too busy doodling on the table to hear me, Ink.”

Ink ignored Alchemy too and turned back to Dream. “Dreamy, have you ever been down here? I like the architecture!”

Fiddling with his coat, Dream looked around the room. They had stepped out into a long hallway, all walls, ceilings, and floor made of tough-looking metal. The corridor went down for quite a while, and several rooms and smaller hallways branched out from it, as far as Dream could tell. There was scarcely any décor, and there were large rectangular lights in the ceiling, placed periodically throughout the hallway, each sending down its own little spotlight into the dark hall. It gave off the perfect ‘creepy laboratory’ vibe and reminded Dream of the True Lab from the classic timeline, but with better lighting and less of an abandoned appearance.

“No, I haven’t…” To tell the truth, it’s not that Dream never had the opportunity to come, but it was more like he was terrified of this place. He was certain it would be stewing with negativity, and for someone who had several irrational fears, a laboratory holding the worlds most dangerous criminal wasn’t the best place for him to hang out.

Ink huffed, with a happy determined expression. “Anyways, it was wonderful to meet all of you,” he said, still avoiding all eye-contact with Swapfell Undyne, “But I’m wondering if you could show me where Error is being contained? That is the whole part of this ‘tour’ after all, isn’t it?”

Before Alchemy or any of the others could reply, a scientist rushed across the hall, disappearing from one end to the other, looking frantic. There was some noise, and their hyperventilating breaths could be heard from whatever room they were in. Papers were being rustled around and then they burst from the doorway running down the hall into another room, squeaking in terror, before zipping back to where they had originally come. Whoever it was, they were clearly more than distressed.

Undyne cleared her throat. “…Excuse me, Alchemy. I need to deal with whatever’s happening right now.”

She took off down the hallway with her high heeled boots clicking as she walked, and turned into the room where the frantic researcher had gone. Murmuring was audible from the office. The four monsters and one human left in the hall looked to one another curiously, before jumping as a scream rattled the building. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S _GONE???_ ” Undyne screamed at the top of her lungs. There was fearful stammering in response, and several objects could be heard thrown around. The slamming of metal file cabinets resounded, along with another frustrated shriek from Undyne. Alchemy immediately strode towards her office to figure out what all the ruckus was about, motioning for all the others to stay where they were.

But before he could reach the door, Undyne stumbled out of it, her pupils shrunk down to the size of pinpricks. Her mouth was stretched wide across her face, which was halfway in between a furious snarl and a maddening grin. She gave a few insane chuckles and then stormed down the hall, growling like a feral animal.

Dream and Ink were left gawking at her, and from around the corner of the mad fish’s office, peeked a small head. It was an Alphys, and Ink immediately recognized her.

“GZ!!” He cried. “Good to see you again! I didn’t know you were working on this project as well!”

GZ Alphys looked a bit frazzled, and approached him cautiously, still looking around as if something might pop up and scare her. “H-Hey Ink. Good to s-see you again… and yeah… good old d-data analysis, hehe…”

Ink beamed at her. “What happened over there? Undies looked like she was about to dive out of a window. Well, it isn’t like there are any windows here…”

“O-Oh… A few important documents went missing… they probably have just been misplaced and will turn up later, that’s all.”

This immediately intrigued Alchemy. “Documents? Which documents?”

GZ clicked her claws together anxiously and hunched over even more than she naturally did. “… the ones that were discussed and approved in that last board meeting…? C-Concerning the fate of the D-Destroyer if he isn’t to prove useful??”

“Useful?” Ink’s cheery tone was immediately lost as he approached Alphys. She didn’t like it at all. “What do you mean _useful?_ ”

She shrunk back down even more until it looked like she no longer had a neck. “Well – I – um – uh – I-I-It’s classified, I-I can’t-“

From behind Ink, Silver made slow motions with his hands that indicated deep breaths and looked directly at Alphys. Inhale. Exhale. She followed along with him until she was able to look Ink in the eye again. “I don’t know all the d-details,” she explained. “But it is up to Alchemy if he decides that you must understand what’s h-happening.”

The god aforementioned began to speak before Ink could get another word in. “That is the reason why I have asked for your presence. I want to discuss the Destroyer’s treatment with you. I will tell you everything, alright?”

He nodded to GZ. “You may go. Thank you for alerting us to the missing documents. We will see to it right away that they are found.”

Alphys gave a small nod and then scurried off, looking rather anxious to get the hell out of dodge. Silver tilted his head in confusion and gave Molly a glance that told her he needed answers, and in return she shrugged, scratching anxiously at her arm. “Excuse me,” she said timidly. “At what time did the documents disappear?”

“I don’t know, we were reviewing them last night,” Alchemy said, his gaze locked on the floor in thought. Molly’s eyes began to dart around anxiously, and her wonderful coat of fur that Ink had complemented earlier had become slick with sweat.

It didn’t seem like anyone was about to say anything, so Dream took the opportunity to cut in. “Pardon me, Alchemy? Do you think I could listen in on your conversation with Ink? I know that it was intended to only be between you two and Dr. Undyne but… I have fought alongside Ink for many of the battles against Error. I even struck the winning blow against him on his attempt to invade Underkeep. So I understand if you say no, but I would like to know what the plan is for his treatment.”

Regarding the Protector of Dreams curiously, Alchemy eventually sighed and caved in to his somewhat-compelling speech. “Fine. You may sit in. Only if you promise not to say anything to anyone outside of our small discussion.”

“I promise.” Dream said, making a little saluting motion with his hands. Alchemy smiled and motioned to Molly and Silver, and they all began to walk down the hall, following the God of Magic’s lead. Ink was still silent, eyeing Alchemy with an impassive stare, before his eyelights transformed into their usual colorful shapes and he trailed behind them, humming to himself.

The walk wasn’t that long, as the establishment itself wasn’t very big, but Ink kept himself plenty entertained. Both his thoughts and his boundless energy, finding excitement in everything he approached, no matter what it was. If he ever asked about a device he passed or remarked on their choice of building material, Molly was always happy to answer his questions, and although Silver said nothing, but helped to escort them to where they needed to be and kept Ink from going into areas he was not supposed to be entering.

The group finally came to a small room and they stepped inside. Undyne was there, waiting for them all with a calmer, but still clearly upset expression. Molly and Silver stayed by the doorframe and gently shut it to give the group more privacy, and everyone took their seats. The two weren’t part of the intimate group concerning the four powerful monsters, so both Molly and Silver went back to their stations and waited for their small discussion to be over. The room was small and resembled a conference room. Everything was serious and grayscale, and there were no windows (but it wasn’t like there was much to look at anyway.) Swapfell Undyne sat at the head of the table, and everyone else on the sides. Ink and Dream naturally took seats next to each other. 

“Are you all good now, Doctor?” Alchemy asked, and Undyne drew an annoyed breath in. “Yes. We’re still looking for the papers, and I’ve alerted everyone in the building to their absence. I set up some of the workers to search through security footage to see if anyone passed through my office that wasn’t me. So, we’ll figure out where they went soon enough. Besides, the document isn’t what matters. It’s the procedure, which we already know well enough.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Ink said, slightly raising his hand in the air. “Procedure for what?”

Alchemy folded his hands on the table. The large amulet that sat in the center of his Dracula-like cloak collar gleamed in the light from the dim panels embedded in the ceiling, causing Ink to squint and look away. He always wore that bulky thing everywhere he went. Whether it meant something or was simply there to complete the image of a magical deity, Ink didn’t know, but it was annoying to look at. It was a circle, with two pentagrams overlapping each other, one upside-down, and the other right-side up, symbolizing a sort of “balance” between magics. In the center of the two stars was a circular cut jewel which shifted colors depending on how you looked at it. Ink thought it was stupid because he never seemed to take it off, but who was Ink to judge when he himself carried around absolute loads of supplies and a massive paintbrush on his back every day?

“Ink,” he began. His eyes were closed, and his starry purple cape rippled with energy, seeming to contain an entire galaxy under the fabric. “I wanted you here so we can debrief you on what we have planned for The Destroyer. I know he is your greatest enemy, and having said that, I understand you are also one of the people who knows him well. To my knowledge, you have managed to have a few peaceful interactions with him outside of your never-ending battles, so I feel that you can understand him on a level we cannot.”

“That is correct,” Ink confirmed, donning a serious expression, not unlike his hollow and cavalier gaze. However, his eyes remained constantly switching colorful shapes, a sure sign that he was still capable of feeling emotions. 

“Then, could you tell us all your opinion of him?”

Ink went silent, and his eyelights faced the table. His eyes were unnaturally wide, like he was caught in a lie, and his pupils wavered. Then he spoke quietly, and he sounded unsure of himself. “He’s a scoundrel, a madman, and a killer. It was right of you to lock him away.”

Noticing the expression on the artist’s face, Alchemy kept pushing the question. “…Are you sure??”

Again, silence. Ink slowly tilted his head back up and drilled a hole into Alchemy with his penetrating stare. Alch was about to say something when Ink cut him off. “Yes.”

The room returned to quiet, and Alchemy bobbed his head awkwardly. “Well… alright then. Moving on, I want to-“

“But.” 

Every head turned back to Ink, who was still staring at Alchemy with an unnerving expression. He was clearly not done talking. “But I think he has the potential. The potential to change. You may not see it but…”

His next sentence was hardly more than a whisper. “…I do. As you’ve said… I’ve seen him on a level _none_ of you have ever seen before…”

The sound of a small manual clock ticking on the wall filled the quiet and Alchemy shuffled a few papers nervously.

The rest of the meeting passed by normally. Ink’s odd behavior slowly melted back away during its course, and he became his typical ebullient self once again. Swapfell Undyne carefully went over all of the procedures they had done so far, such as his feeding, his treatment and “training” in order to cooperate. Dream looked a bit uncomfortable at that, since he knew that it wasn’t right to train a sentient creature like an animal, and he said so to Undyne, who simply rolled her eyes and told Dream they weren’t treating him like an animal, they were treating him like a mentally insane convict, which was what he was. Ink seemed pacified throughout the discussion, but ever so slightly uncomfortable. Dream could pick up hints of sadness in his aura, but of course, he never knew how to completely tell with Ink. With all of the emotions on his sash glowing brightly, it was difficult to pinpoint which were coming from Ink and which were simply exuding from his vials. 

However, it was made clear that Ink was feeling strong negativity when they mentioned the amnesia pills and Ink’s aura immediately plunged into swirling purple of anxiety. His eye twitched ever so slightly and his smile became strained. “What?”

“The amnesia pills? Oh, don’t worry, they’re temporary. We need them for when he wakes up. As I said, we can’t keep him unconscious forever, but we can try. For the event that he does come out of the tank, we will need to pacify him before he begins to get aggressive, and the pills work very well for that. His defense and mental state drops to that of a frightened toddler, easily led by a friendly face and comforting smile, something that Molly is happy to offer.”

Ink stared Undyne down like a lion staring at a gazelle, and his smile stretched wider. “Tell me more.”

The doctor blinked in surprise before sighing. “Well, we tested them on him when we transferred him from the cell to the water tank. He literally had no clue why he was even there, and as such broke down into tears every couple of minutes. It was a rather pitiful display, if I’m to be honest with you. But, besides the crying, he was really well behaved. Anything that resulted in a shock from the collar would cause him to not do it again, in an effort to please us.”

Undyne smiled a little at that. “It was kind of cute, to be honest.”

Every bone in Ink’s body seized up and Alchemy glared at her long and hard, and his eyes became bright purple, glowing rings in his sockets. “ _Doctor,_ ” he said, with venom lacing his voice. A warning.

“Relax,” said the Swapfell monster. “I’m just joking around. The effects were positive, and it is highly likely that we will be using the pills again for any tests that we must run on him.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Ink said. His voice was all too high pitched and forced, like he would explode any second. Sure enough, Dream could see the bright red vial on his sash glowing brightly. “And by tests, you mean trials so you can shape him into your own personal puppy dog? Are you going to train him to call you ‘master’ and drop to his knees, as well? Or is _that_ where you cross the line, after all the shit you’ve already done?”

“E-Excuse me,” Dream said, standing up. “I-I’m going to wait for you all outside. Too much negativity makes me feel sick.” He made a beeline for the door before Ink could ask him to stay. Now the artist was left alone, with the two people he would rather not be encountering right now.

Undyne adjusted her glasses angrily, and picked up a few papers from the table, filing through them. “That’s not what’s going on here at all. My goal is to analyze what makes him so powerful. I want to know the chemical composition of his strings, I want to know his magic capacity, I just want to understand him. I’m not going to torture him, because Alchemy said so.”

Said God looked like he was about to explode in rage, but managed to keep a level head. “We also don’t torture him because that is. _Not. Okay._ ”

“Anyways, so I’m supposed to go over my plan with you.” She cracked her neck a few times and then grinned, her sharp, yellowed teeth crooked in her mouth. “So, I know you were there for when we put him down with the tranquilizer, but what you probably don’t know, is how concentrated that batch was. You wanna know what that high of a concentration could do? It could kill fucking King Kong. No, scratch that. King Kong but – five times bigger. Five King Kongs. In an instant. And all it did to this five-foot skeleton was knock him out for two hours.”

Ink nodded along as she spoke, but the expression on his face was less than friendly.

“So, we can’t afford to keep wasting that much on him. Hell, I don’t think we have enough! We’d run out of the stuff after five shots if it were to be administered every couple of hours. So, I came up with a plan. Now, you might not like it, but it’s the only thing we’ve got to keep him under.”

She stood up from her seat and headed towards the door, opening it and stepping into the hallway. She glanced at Ink from the corner of her yellow eye. “Follow me.” Ink gave Alchemy an uncertain look, but the God simply got up and followed her out of the room. 

Dream decided to stay with Molly and Silver – he was enjoying their company and frankly, was scared to see the Destroyer all chained up. He knew it probably would give him nightmares. He gave the Creator a small wave as he passed, and Ink waved back, without a smile.

They approached two double doors, heavily locked and with several keypads and wires on the sides of the doors. Massive ‘AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY’ signs were plastered on the door, as well as a padlock on the door. Undyne swiped a keycard against one of the slots, punched in a six-digit code, and then took a key out of her pocket to undo the bulky metal lock.

“We needed more than just technological restrictions. The keypads are to make sure no one gets in. The lock, however,” She twisted the key harshly, and with a click, the lock came undone. “…Is to make sure no one gets out, if you know what I mean…”

The doors swung open and she ushered the two of them inside. Alchemy looked upon the sight before him, unimpressed, as he had been in this room multiple times.

Ink was rooted to the ground, and his colorful eyelights were replaced with simple white dots as he stared in front of him, almost as if he were in a trance.

The room was bare, save for a clear, square panel at the far wall. It sat directly in the center, about eight by eight, from what Ink could see. There was more of it to be seen, as well. Because it was clear, Ink could see it was a cube, that had been most likely fit inside of the wall like a slot. There were a few other keypads, switches and levers of all sorts around the frame of the box, and Ink took a step forward.

It was filled to the brim with water, leaving hardly a centimeter of room for air. It gently bubbled and sloshed around, with a turquoise tint. In the center of it all… was Error.

A blindfold covered his eyes, and the large metal muzzle that Ink had seen on him last time was clasped around his mouth. His arms were attached by the wrists to the wall of the box, and his feet were locked to the floor by his ankles. His bones were limp, and his pelvis floated a little way off the ground, as he was suspended in water. Two thin needles attached to skinny plastic tubes were plunged into each radius on his arm, and the collar around his neck was attached to two, hook-like clips. His body was eerily motionless, save for the natural bobbing of the water.

Ink took a few more steps forward, his eyes locked on the tank. He could hear Undyne and Alchemy saying something to him, but whatever they had to tell him wasn’t nearly as important as this. And the restraints weren’t even the worst part.

Error’s body did a thing where it glitched. No matter where he was, little ‘ERROR’ messages would hover around his body, like whatever plane of existence he dwelled on couldn’t handle his presence. Little bits and pieces of his bones would disappear and reappear in perfect rectangular shapes for a few seconds, and then snap back to his body. Ink thought it was fascinating and funny to look at, especially when Error would reboot. The artist always laughed at that, even when they were in the middle of a battle.

But now they looked pained. The glitches were spread out too wide and moved too fast. They’d freeze for five seconds, before rushing around his body like a tornado of rectangles, almost like his body was pulling itself apart. It looked agonizing.

“Ink. Dude, did you hear a word I just said.”

Ink said nothing and then turned back to the two monsters. “No, I’m sorry, I spaced out.” He cleared his throat. “You did a… great job… detaining him…” 

Alchemy noticed a twinge of green coloring his cheeks but didn’t say anything. 

“Why, thank you,” Undyne said, taking the compliment with a complete lack of humility. “Anyways, to catch you up to speed, I’ll say it again.”

She walked over to the tank, as if it were a prop in her presentation. “We needed a way to knock him out for as long as possible, but we couldn’t amass such a quantity of anesthesia. So, I devised another solution.”

Her knuckles knocked a few times on the glass to further make her point. “Based on some helpful information that _you_ gave us, Ink, we knew that his body didn’t react well with water.”

“…that I gave you?”

“Yes. According to Alchemy, you had told him after a fight near the sector of the multiverse with Undersail and Oceantale that Error had not only a fear of water but that it hurt him by severely affecting the glitch rate of his body, correct?”

Again, Ink was silent. It seemed to be a common trend that day. “…I did say that. He would hiss whenever I’d splash water on him and shake it off like a dog, heh…complaining about how it stings like a cranky kid...” Ink seemed to be lost in his thoughts, a slow smile creeping up the corners of his mouth before redirecting his attention back to the Doctor. All the happiness that had built its way into his face disappeared when he looked to the cube of water embedded in the wall.

“Exactly. It hurts him. It drives his body insane. So, I had a theory, which proved to be true.” She smiled. “If we completely submerged his entire form into a massive tank of water, with no room for air, his body would spaz out, and his pain sensors would be so overloaded they’d black him out permanently. Right now, he’s on no anesthetics. His body’s just in so much pain that he’s been forcefully knocked unconscious because he can’t deal with that many sensations at once!”

Undyne clapped her hands together like she was proud of herself and gave a big happy smile. Alchemy continued to stare at her like she was the scum of the Earth and Ink…

Well, Ink wasn’t moving. He stood, unblinking, staring at the criminal chained up inside the cube. The Guardian was about as lively as a statue.

“One part that Undyne failed to mention…” Alchemy said, cutting in, “Is that we put him to sleep before this operation started, so throughout the course of this project, he has never once perceived any of this as pain. We’ve run tests to make sure. To him, it’s simply deep sleep, and since he hasn’t woken up all that much, he’s been in a relatively peaceful state.”

“That much?” Ink said, his tone level and serious. He didn’t move at all, not even turning his head. The words just simply tumbled out of his mouth, quiet and collected.

Nervously fiddling with his glasses, Alchemy looked up at the Creator, who stood in a trance. He wasn’t getting the reaction he had expected. “Well, there was one incident which was all on my _employee_ here, who decided it would be a good idea to test the shock collar while he was still underwater, resulting in him waking up and thrashing around. He kept convulsing and screaming until we administered pain medication and put him back to sleep. She’s not allowed to be in charge of the collar anymore.”

“Was that what the documents that were so important said?”

Undyne was about to answer, but Alchemy knew she would only create more problems. “A-ah, no… not really. It’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about – We can’t keep him forever. If it gets too much for us to handle, for him to handle, or if he suffers too much, we… we will put him down. Peacefully. It will be like falling asleep, and in the long run, be better for him and for everyone.”

Ink nodded his head ever so slightly as Alchemy spoke, still keeping his eyes locked in front of him. He spoke, his voice empty again. “When do you plan on doing that to him.”

“Perhaps a few months. No LV gains will come out of the operation, and he will be treated with utmost compassion before we let him pass. It’s for the greater good. And it’s better than to be in a place like this for the rest of his life."

Undyne, with her inability to assess the current situation, began to obnoxiously think out loud. “We have the blindfold there in case he wakes up, so he doesn’t freak out again, and also because his eyes are always open and it’s creepy as fuck. We can’t get them to close, we’ve tried, but I think it has something to do with his rebooting process.”

She turned around and shouted at a window on the wall. “Yo, Uh… the Alphys in the weird square shaped glasses! Remove the blindfold, I wanna show them his eyes! They’re hilarious!”

The lizard nodded and scrambled over to the controls, clicking buttons and pulling up screens with strings of commands written on them. 

“It’s really not that funny-“ Alchemy tried to say before the metal blindfold slid off Error’s eyes and to the sides of his head.

It really wasn’t actually that funny. Error’s sockets were blown wide open, as far as they could go, and a red and blue glow came flashing from each eye. Pixels and glitches swarmed around in the empty sockets as he stared in no direction at all. Not once did he blink, and from the inside of his eyes, little loading bars would spontaneously appear, and then disappear, like his body was trying to reboot itself but wasn’t physically capable of doing so. ‘ERROR’ and little red ‘X’ buttons buzzed around inside his skull with all the other miscellaneous digital malfunctions plaguing his bones.

Undyne laughed, and Ink took a few more steps closer. 

Closer and closer, until he touched his fingers to the glass.

He looked up into those eyes, those broken, dead eyes. Those eyes that saw nothing except eternal torment. Staring down at Ink.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Ink doubled over and vomited on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blarg.
> 
> Also HEY BROS
> 
> DO YOU LIKE MUSIC  
> DO YOU HAVE SPOTIFY??  
> WELL, THAT'S FANTASTIC BECAUSE I MADE PLAYLISTS!!!!1!  
> It's called: "Dusttale (and other edgy things)"  
> A collection of my favorite edgy songs I listen to while writing this uwu  
> Follow it or I'll FedEx noodles to your doorstep


	8. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error's fate is decided, and Ink's behavior becomes questionable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so um like kay there is..........sad............in this chapter. BUTBUT BUT!!!!! Just read all the way through, I promise there is a reason I DO NOT have the Major Character Death tag up!!!
> 
> Also sorry if I didn't write this kid from the UK correctly. My American ass don't know England I'm sorry i dunno what y'all do over there ;-;

Gradient’s fingers hovered above his keyboard, twitching in midair. His room was dark, barely illuminated, the glow from his computer monitor the only source of light. How was he supposed to respond to a question like ‘Are your parents divorced?’ He reached a hand under his glasses and scratched at his eye before tapping away carefully at the keyboard.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** I guess.

 **@RazorKnightly:** what do you mean ‘i guess???’ it’s a yes or no question bro

 **@77Digiglitch77:** it doesn’t have to be. My parents were never married in the first place and they hate each other. I live with my mom.

 **@RazorKnightly:** so you were an accident?

Again, a pause. Would he consider himself an accident? Neither of his parents knew that he even existed until they broke into that laboratory. His heavy-quote-unquote ‘maker’, (or the bastard who decided that combining the DNA of the Destroyer and Creator to engender a weapon of chaos was a smart idea), was well aware of his making. But of course, he couldn’t tell this to a child who lived in a timeline without monsters or magic.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** yea

 **@RazorKnightly:** But you have a brother - 28???

 **@RazorKnightly:** Are you biological brothers?

 **@77Digiglitch77:** yes…??

 **@RazorKnightly:** K so like I got a D in math, but like - if I’m correct, u and ur brother are thirteen years apart.

 **@RazorKnightly:** And that’s quite an age gap, born to the same parents that were never married and hate each other???

 **@RazorKnightly:** That’s hard to believe.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** um uh

Technically, he wasn’t lying about any of this. But if he had to explain himself, he’d just end up confusing the kid more and making himself look like a liar. Time to fudge the facts a little.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Listen man my whole family is weird as ass, okay? My mom’s a politician and my dad’s a convict, who’s been arrested for several murders.

There. Not a total fib, but not the truth either. That should hold steady.

 **@RazorKnightly:** ...UM

 **@RazorKnightly:** WHAT

 **@RazorKnightly:** YOUR DAD IS A FUCKING MURDERER??????

 **@RazorKnightly:** DUDE THATS BADASS AND ALSO KIND IF TERRIFYING AT THE SAME TIME

 **@RazorKnightly:** WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR FAMILY EVEN

Good question. Did Gradient even know, himself?

 **@77Digiglitch77:** um yeah idk tbh

 **@77Digiglitch77:** He just got arrested recently. They caught him about two months ago, and he’s been in prison ever since. I’ve never really met him, but my mom says that I shouldn’t need to anyways. He’s a “bad influence”.

 **@RazorKnightly:** UH NO SHIT HE KILLED PEOPLE

 **@77Digiglitch77:** yeah, I guess.

 **@RazorKnightly:** bro is that what life’s like in America??? That’s WILD MATE

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Yeah, it’s pretty cool over here

 **@77Digiglitch77:** in america 

**@77Digiglitch77:** which is where I live

 **@RazorKnightly:** dude what’s your dad’s name? Maybe I could find some articles on him

He worried his “lip” and tugged on the collar of his hoodie. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything about his family life - it seemed to be raising more questions rather than answering.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** um… I don’t know his name…

 **@77Digiglitch77:** But he’s in prison now so it doesn’t really matter. 

**@RazorKnightly:** Alright alright, touchy subject, I get it man.

 **@RazorKnightly:** What I’m confused about is why your mom and dad screwed at least twice in the span of thirteen years if they hated each other and your dad was a murderer.

Well, he couldn’t exactly says he and PJ had come into existence without any sexual activity - that would just confuse him further. At times like this, it was just best to play dumb.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** man idk. Mom doesn’t like to talk about it. He’s pretty reserved when it comes to our dad.

 **@RazorKnightly:** “He”??? I thought it was your mom.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** *she. Sorry, that was a typo lol.

 **@RazorKnightly:** lmao

Gradient had almost fessed up to having two male parents but decided that would not be a good idea. He had already said that he and his brother were their offspring, but he remembered that two human men can’t biologically conceive a child. God, humans have so many rules - it’s hard to keep all the facts straight. He just hoped he wouldn’t screw up and accidently create some sort of an inconsistency in the story he was fabricating.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** So yeah. Um, that happened.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I wanna come to America now just because ur life sounds so EPIC

 **@RazorKnightly:** England is boring af

 **@77Digiglitch77:** mm

 **@RazorKnightly:** Like, everyone over here is a total jerk. 

**@RazorKnightly:** But it’s nice to know that there is someone who lives like me lol

 **@77Digiglitch77:** like you?

 **@RazorKnightly:** yeah, you said I was one of your best friends. And I said the same thing. We’re both losers who play too many video games.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** lmao yea XD

 **@RazorKnightly:** but I wanna tell you something

 **@RazorKnightly:** LIke ur my best friend

 **@RazorKnightly:** But if i'm gonna b honest

 **@RazorKnightly:** ur like my only friend

 **@77Digiglitch77:** wait… really??

 **@RazorKnightly:** ...yeah. I’m kind of lame. I sit alone 4 lunch every day lol. I just text you mostly.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** um… well you’re one of my best friends too :)

 **@RazorKnightly:** :D Yay!

Gradient felt his figurative heart swell and a smile crept onto his face. Take that, Ink! He _did_ have friends besides his brother! Well technically, Palette and Goth were his friends too, but they “didn’t count as ‘bonding’ friends” in Ink’s eyes because, as he said, “by default you are friends with family.” And even though he and Goth weren’t related, the young God-in-training came over enough to practically be a brother at this point.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** :DDD u can txt me anytime, dude!

 **@RazorKnightly:** Sweet! Also, out of pure curiosity - where in America do you live?? Like which state?

A map of the United States was immediately pulled up on Google. Gray didn’t know diddly squat about Earth’s geography - he never had a reason to know in the first place. He visited timelines very rarely. Scanning his options quickly, he picked out a grand looking state in the top left. It looked fairly large - probably heavily populated.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** um… Montana...

 **@RazorKnightly:** Oh Nice. I have no idea where that is.

 _Me neither,_ Gray wanted to respond.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** It’s a state

 **@RazorKnightly:** well duh, I know that

 **@RazorKnightly:** hold on one sec

 **@77Digiglitch77:** k

 **@RazorKnightly:** shit I have to go. My mom came home.

 **@RazorKnightly:** um nice talking to you

 **@RazorKnightly:** bye

And then he was offline.

Gradient sighed and leaned back in his chair, grabbing a big plastic bottle of soda by his side. He chugged it for a few and then got up and shambled out of the dark recesses that was his room, trying not to trip on his dirty clothes. His friend had a thing with his mother, Gray could deduce. Every time the subject of his parents came up the kid would immediately try to change the subject. He had said before that there were problems at his place, but he hadn’t specified on what they were.

Oh well, it’s not like Gradient’s family didn’t have any problems.

The hallways were unnervingly silent, and it concerned the black-boned skeleton. Usually, PJ was in his room making some sort of ruckus, and Fresh was almost always with him. But now, not a sound came from the colorful hallways.

But that was fine, he thought. PJ was probably out having fun with one of his friends or something. Everyone knew didn’t like spending too much of his time cooped up inside, so it was normal for him not to be home.

But why did something feel off?

He shrugged the feeling off and began head downstairs to the kitchen, to make himself a bowl of sugary cereal.

He had left his phone in his room. If it had been with him, he might have figured out where PJ went. The device frantically buzzed lit up frantically, trying to get the attention of anyone at all, but no one picked it up.

Texts from Paperjam blew up Gradient’s phone:

**Something’s wrong with mom  
** **Gray pick up!!!**  
**Get off your video games now**  
**Ink’s not okay**  
**He’s going to do something**  
**Gray please**  
**I can’t find him**  
**He left his emotions at home**  
**GRAY PICK UP**  
**HE’S GOING TO KILL SOMEONE**  
**GRAY**  
**GRAY**  
**GRAY**

\----------~*~*~----------

The first time Error was taken out of the tank, he was put back on the pills.

His body felt weird and fuzzy from being in the water for so long, and a few times, he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground, for he had lost most feeling in all of his limbs. Whenever he toppled over, he wasn’t zapped but met with impatience. At least they understood that he was trying his hardest. The nice cat lady would always help him stand back up again though, and soon he began to rely on her comforting presence, or he’d break down into tears.

He was guided by the hand to a small, austere-looking room, where several of the important people that bossed him around made him wait on a small medical table. They slowly removed the metal rings from around his eyes and started to pull the strings from his sockets, like pulling silk from a spider’s abdomen. 

It stung a little bit, but he didn’t cry. They never like it when he cries, so he didn’t.

The cat lady sat with him the whole time, rubbing his back and telling him to be brave while they stood over him, tugging and pulling the neverending string from the outer rim of his eyes. It felt like a magician, pulling an infinite chain of multicolored cloth from his mouth. But this was different. Much different. The magician wouldn’t have his head pushed onto hard metal by another’s gloved hand, and his hands and legs wouldn’t be bound to the surface he rested on. 

Afterward, he was put back in the tank, and Error felt his sanity begin to erode.

Then they took him out again. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep. This time, it took him five minutes to remember how to walk. Every time he tried his legs would shake and he’d fall to his knees. It got to an insufferable point, to where Molly had to carry him, much like one would a young child. He even fell asleep on her shoulder while she talked with the others.

They put him through something similar to a doctor’s office check-up. It was a whole lot of “say ah” and “lie down” and “turn your head and cough”. He was fairly certain they were checking his vitals, which he thought was good because they weren’t being nearly as rough as last time. He was on his best behavior and looked to the others for their approval. All they did was scowl at him. He didn’t know why they were always so mad at him. Had he been a bad person?

He was unable to tell how much time passed while he was knocked out, floating in the water. It seemed like somewhere in between a second an a lifetime before he was taken out again for the third time.

With much nagging from Alchemy, Dr. Undyne was finally been convinced to cease the administration of amnesia pills for the next session. A big mistake.

It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for one of the monsters to limp out with a broken leg, and no matter how hard they shocked Error, it would only spur him on, until the entire floor was shaken with howling and screaming from the captive, struggling in his restraints with fury in his eyes. So they forced another pill down his throat.

And voila, he was suddenly as obedient and oblivious as a puppy dog. He never made any noise, even without the muzzle, and followed Molly around like a young child looking to their mother for guidance, doing exactly as told. The pills seemed to work like a charm.

But Alchemy could see the effect all of this treatment was having on his body. Even though they didn’t see it, he did. How Error limped and stumbled when he would walk. The way he would try to talk, only to have the sound of a dying speaker escape from his mouth. How he was always tired and looked like he was delirious. How during the second session, he had briefly forgotten what the word “door” meant.

They had gotten all the information they had needed, anyways.

And he looked so tired, Alchemy had said. In so much mental pain, and the world was becoming nothing but a blur of noise and numbness for him.

Molly was one of the biggest proponents of the euthanization process. She was against it at first but came around to support it. It was better for him. Better for all of the other researchers. He was always in a coma, anyways, she argued. It had been two months since they put him under, and he was awake and lucid for a maximum of six hours for the whole time. Nothing would change for him, she said. And it was better than staying alive in a place like this. In never-ending agony. He’d be given peace because she knew that if they kept him alive, they’d never let him go.

If this was his life now, and they were through with all of their data collections, why should he continue to be present in such an awful place?

It was a true act of mercy.

So it was decided. They would put him down.

\----------~*~*~----------

Error awoke to the feeling of movement and noises that fully didn’t make sense to his muddled brain. He couldn’t sort out what was going on in his surroundings. Blearily, the glitch opened his eyes, finding even an action as simple as that to be straining. He saw blurry steel walls rushing past his vision and blinked, trying to get them into focus. But something small in the back of his mind told him he can’t. Oh yeah, his eyes are bad, aren’t they? Everything’s was always blurry, right? Yeah… he was right.

He felt a bit of triumph in his small cognitive victory and then focused in on where he was, noticing what he was feeling. His cheek was resting on something warm and soft, and he was able to pick up the sounds of footsteps directly below him. We’re those his feet? No, not his feet. His feet were off the ground. Why…?

A hand stroked his skull softly, and suddenly he was hyper-aware of himself, cradled in the cat lady’s arms with his head on her shoulders. Her arms were wrapped around him - one paw below his pelvis and another on his skull, and a forearm supporting his back. It was… nice. And soft. He subconsciously cuddled back into the warm embrace and wanted to float off to dreamland again. It was too tiring to think about things - he had been in the middle of a really happy dream, too! Why had they woken him up?

He could see a change of light through his closed eyelids and opened them once more in aggravation. Not before he was jostled out of her comforting grasp. He whined in surprise as he was gently laid onto a small cushion of some sorts. He tried to sit up, but there were hands all over him, pushing him back down before he could even start to move. It was fine though, he reasoned. It was pretty comfy anyways, and he was tired.

From where he laid on his side, he could see lots of monsters discussing stuff amongst themselves, with very serious faces, occasionally glancing at him. He briefly wondered what they were talking about.

The cat monster re-appeared in his line of sight and fiddled with the muzzle until the straps came undone, and she gently set it aside. Error brought up a hand to rub at his nose and mouth, which had been itchy for the longest time. Finally, he could talk!

But what should he say?

Cat lady beat him to the punch. She bent down and smiled at him with the most kind, heart-warming smile ever to grace the multiverse. “Hey there… how are you doing, Error?”

Error tried three separate times to speak, but nothing came out except a weak whine and an exhale. She rubbed his arm soothingly. “It’s okay, take your time…”

“...tired…” he managed to choke out. “...wanna sleep…”

She gave him a small smile, just as motherly as before, but it felt a little… sad. She inhaled for a while and Error furrowed his brow in confusion. Why were her eyes wet?

“Okay…” She said softly, stroking his skull. “You’re going to get to go to sleep again soon, alright?”

He nodded and exhaled through his teeth. It felt like his body was numb to everything - he could see little glitches swarm his body, but he couldn’t feel them. Somehow, the lack of feeling itself was hurting him.

He tried to explain this to the cat lady. “Itsso nufin…”

She tilted her head. “I don’t understand, Error. Can you say it a little bit louder?”

“Lottsa nothing...hurts…” His fingers twitched as he talked. “I dunno nothing…”

Cat Lady hushed him, and pet his skull. “Shh… it’s all going to go away soon… just relax, okay? You won’t be hurt again...”

Error didn’t argue. He was more than willing to close his eyes again, and his breathing fell into a slow rhythm. He was able to block out all the noise around him and start to drift off again. His head was so heavy, and seeing he was hardly awake in the first place, it only took him a few minutes to fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

He had no idea what was going on. He didn’t know anything. His bones felt like TV static and he couldn’t seem to stay present. His brain was a bucket of water - thoughts sloshing around in his skull without any real meaning. Just when he felt he had a solid grasp on a memory or idea, it would drip between his fingers and recede back into the dark hollows of his decaying mind.

Almost immediately as he started to transition into a deep, REM sleep, there was suddenly a buzz, and his eyes snapped open as a burning, stinging feeling singed the sides of his neck. His body convulsed a few times and he let out a surprised yelp. After it faded away, he curled up on himself, pulling his knees to his chest and gripping the collar with both hands, quivering like a leaf in the wind. He tried to repress the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, but a few escaped from his sockets and dripped onto the mattress.

She said they wouldn’t hurt him again! Why would they do that?? He thought he had been doing good!

He looked to the Cat Lady for guidance but discovered that she was no longer there. A panic attack was felt building up within him, but then Error heard her voice behind him and calmed.

She sounded very angry, she hissed in a whisper to someone else. He had never heard her angry before, and he didn’t like it.

“...do that again and I will rake your eyes out. He doesn’t deserve your brutality right now.”

“Woah, hey…” a gruff voice said. “Listen, doctor, he fell asleep. I just-“

“You just _nothing._ ” She spat. “Let him sleep.”

“...why? If it were up to me I’d lock him back up again, keep him in agony for the rest of his life, the bastard deserves it!!”

There was a harsh rustle of fabric, and suddenly many footsteps were heard, people muttering and shoving each other away. Error didn’t understand what was going on solely with audio cues, but he knew that she had gotten mad.

“Listen to me.” Her voice was seething with anger. “ _That_ is someone completely different than who you’re mad at. _That_ is a creature who has been drugged into oblivion, can’t even walk, knows literally nothing, and bursts into tears every five minutes if I’m not there holding his hand. He is _not_ the person who took your family. That monster is buried deep in his mind, and will not reawaken ever again.”

She paused her tirade to sniff and her voice suddenly became wavy and cracked a complete shift on the emotional wheel.

“Besides… we’re putting him to sleep… he won’t be here much longer, so please... don’t make it harder for him…”

Silence, and then angry footsteps slamming the door, and making Error flinch. He still had both his hands wrapped around the collar.

The Cat lady came back around to face him, and dropped to her knees and smiled at him again. But she looked different. Her eyes were pink and glassy, and her cheeks were wet.

Error still wasn’t comprehending the situation. Every time he thought too hard he’d get an ice pick headache, beating against his temples ruthlessly. So he stopped trying. He felt her paws gently grab his fingers, trying to get him to let go of the collar. He reluctantly let her take his hands into hers, and stared at her, waiting for something to happen.

But she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking over his head at the people behind him. The Cat Lady gave a short nod and then turned her gaze back to him.

“Error, I want you to close your eyes, okay? Just close your eyes and I want you to think of something that makes you feel happy.”

He complied, peeking them open a couple of times out of curiosity and apprehension, but she would gently run a hand over his head and close them again.

He felt latex-gloved hands on his legs and chest. There was another attempt to open his eyes again, but the Cat Lady’s paw was holding them shut.

“Hey hey hey, it’s alright. I’m right here, you’re going to be okay.”

Error made a few garbled noises in protest but soon fell limp. He didn’t have the energy to fight them off. 

She kept talking to him, holding his hands together sweetly. “Don’t pay attention to them, Error. Can you tell me what makes you happy?”

There was the clang of metal hitting metal from behind him and more murmuring. What made him happy??

He has asked that question to himself earlier, hadn’t he? What was the answer???

…

He thought about it. 

“...r-r...Ray…”

The gloved hands poked at his rib cage, feeling over the bones. Something metal scrapped over his spinal cord. He shivered and twitched at the cold instrument on his back, but the warm paws over his eyes and holding his hands distracted him.

“Go ahead. What is it?”

He tried again. “Ray…ain...Rainbows…”

She was silent, and then he felt her move closer. Her hand moved to the top of his skull and pet it a few times, and she gently placed his arms back on the cushion.

“Rainbows?” She whispered. He nodded weakly, his eyes still closed. She wasn’t using anything to keep them shut but felt that he couldn’t open them even if he wanted to. He was absolutely exhausted, only ten minutes after waking up.

“Well… I want you to think about big, bright, beautiful rainbows, okay? Just think about that and go to sleep, alright … I promise they’ll never touch you ever again. Dream of all the different colors in the rainbow.”

He was instantly soothed by her words, and all the stress and tension he had been holding in his bones faded away, leaving him limp. The hands began to feel over the back of his neck and brushed over it something soft. A cotton swab, most likely.

She kept on mumbling to him, her voice cracking. “Shh… it’s all okay… just dream of all the things that make you smile… everything’s going to be better now...I’m so sorry… _I’m so so sorry… it’s better this way... it will all be better now..._

Error didn’t know why she was acting so sad. Was it something he had done? Maybe… but wait, he shouldn’t be thinking about that. He should be thinking about the rainbows. The beings that had been handling him suddenly unexpectedly fell quiet. Good, he needed to concentrate.

He thought about the rainbows. The big sparkling beautiful rainbows, with every color on the whole spectrum glowing across his face when he smil-

...wait, whose face??

He reached out to the Cat Lady to grab her again, and felt the fabric of her coat, bunching it into a tight fist. He babbled out a few words with all the energy he had left in his almost deplete reserves.

“Ho… ld… my h-hand… to sle-ep…?”

She was then instantaneously intertwining their fingers together, holding both paws to his hand. “Of course. Now just rest, alright? You’re okay… it’s time to sleep.”

Error became inert, and he slowly drowned out all his worries with the rainbows the cat lady told him to think about. Every color on the color wheel. _Big, bright, sparkly and beautiful._

Two hands gripped the back of his neck, and something large and chilly was pushed in between his cervical vertebrates, making an easily accessible gap in the bone.

_Stretching across a pretty green field._

Another hand was placed on top of his pelvis, and there was scraping on the sides of the mattress below him.

_Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple_

Something else was placed in between his neck bones. Small and thin. It stung for a few seconds, and then it was gone, leaving a light throbbing in its place.

_Just like the color of his vials, like the color of his paintings, like the color of his cheeks when Error kissed him on the forehead and the color of his bones when -_

The memories crumbled away as fast as they had come.

And then it was lights out.

 

…

 

…

 

Literally.

Every light in the entire building shut off at once.

\----------~*~*~----------

Undyne froze, as her sight was suddenly obscured by pitch black. The lightbulbs blinked off, and only the small blue dots of light from a few machines glowed. She growled angrily and fumbled around, laying the medical tools in her hand on a small metal tray to her left.

She pulled the surgical mask down her face.“WHAT’S GOING ON - WHO SHUT OFF THE LIGHTS!” She screamed, and the other researchers scrambled away from her enraged tone, stumbling over a few things in the dark. Pathetic.

A growl, and then she turned to the door or at least the general direction of the door. “GUARDS! WHAT’S HAPPENING?? IM IN THE _MIDDLE OF AN OPERATION!!”_

A bright white beam of light suddenly hit her eyes and she instinctively squinted and raised a hand up to shield her vision. The two guards outside the door had taken their flashlights out of their belts, and waved it around, illuminating the dark room. Some of the researchers were on the floor, cowering, but got to their feet quickly to make a show of being brave.

The Swapfell monster approached the guards, absolutely livid. “You wanna tell me _what’s going on?”_

One of the guards, an Underdecay's own Dogamy, scratched his neck anxiously. “W-We don’t know, I think the power went out.”

“With such perfect timing? I don’t think so. Check the building. Now!”

The two nodded and hurried off, scampering down the hallway, the beams of light bouncing as they ran.

The rest of the team had activated their phone flashlights and were all trying to get their bearings. Error was lying limp on the table, completely motionless. The rise and fall of his chest was absent. Undyne approached them and shoved a few of them. Her hands roamed his bones, checking his vitals, as difficult as it was to check a skeletons pulse or soulbeat.

Molly was still kneeled on the ground, holding his hands tight, her face turned down and small sob wracking her form. Her tail was curled up around her knees, tears dripping onto the floor.

Undyne barked at her, agitated. “Get up, doctor. He’s not dead. At least not yet. I only administered the tranquilizing agent. I have yet to inject the pentobarbital.”

The cat monster looked up. Her fur was shining in the light from the camera flash, her eyes bright red with tears. Her cheeks were soaking wet, and her ears were pressed flat against her head. Molly said nothing and made no moves to stand, staring at the doctor with utter hatred.

“I despise you.” She growled, baring her teeth. It made Undyne laugh.

“Well, that’s too bad. Maybe once he’s gone you’ll see why this was a necessary ‘evil’, as you seem to think it is.” 

She remained still, tightly squeezing the unconscious criminal’s hand, not daring to let go.

Undyne sighed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the other end of the room. She didn’t have time to deal with the emotional attachment issues Dr. Molly had created with the sociopathic animal. She had more important things to figure out, and she didn’t like the feeling of their current predicament at all. The small blinks of light followed her like spotlights to help her avoid any mishaps in the dark. She peeked her head out of the door and squinted down the hallway. With the residual glow of the others’ cameras, she was provided enough illumination to help her see.

Two meters down the hall to both sides, and it dissolved into nothing but darkness.

Christ, this was aggravating. She needed light to perform the euthanasia, it was a delicate process, dammit! And where were those guards, anyway??

She called down the hallway, trying to get a response from the two she had dispatched a few minutes ago. No answer. She couldn’t see their flashlights either. Must have gone down to the control room or something.

She turned back into the lab. “Well, I don’t think we-“

_**SMASH** _

A small window on the side of the lab shattered into a million pieces, and all the occupants of the room screamed and dove away from the wreckage. Through the doorway, a figure crawled on his hands and knees - the security guard Undyne had just sent to investigate. He gave a few pitiful whimpers looking at her with desperation, before an inky black tentacle wrapped around his midsection.

His fingers dragged against the floor as he was taken into the air and thrown at the wall like a child’s plaything, immediately crumbling into dust with impact.

From what was seen in the light from all of their smartphones, the tentacle was stained with red on it’s tips, mixing in with the black goop. The other guard had been a human.

There was a rumbling, distorted laugh from outside the door, laced with malice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Everytime I try to be dramatic I think it just ends up being super cringy and now i wanna yeet myself into the glorious void
> 
> Anyways, I'm going to go on a one-month hiatus - I need to focus on my schoolwork fulltime, and can't let my grades slip. Don't worry, I'll be back soon!! :D


	9. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lab is attacked, Molly has an internal crisis, and Undyne is a hero for the first time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!!! IT'S ME AGAIN!!!!!!
> 
> Here's to all the people that asked me when I was going to return - I'm so so so so sorry for the long hiatus - allow me to expound upon my woes:
> 
> My stupid b u t t is barely holding on to my A in honors chemistry, something I really don't want to lose, and my chem teacher decides that making a final, cumulitive test of all the stuff we learned would be TOO HARD so she has a better idea!!!! She gives us the SAT II!!!!
> 
> I studied for nine hours straight and probably got a C on it ;-;. If I ever see another redox equation I will literally start having war flashbacks. Doesn't help with all the other kids that sit next to me that get perfect scores and giggle "Oh I didn't even study and I got a 104% on the final! Heehee~"  
> (I'm not trash talking them - they are very nice, but whew am i high-key jealous. Who gave them permission to be smart>:( )
> 
> Anyways, enough with that - I'm back to writing. :) I'll see what I can do for the time being, but I am going to Europe soon, so Idk how much time I'll have to click-clack on my keyboard.
> 
> Thanks for all the support ^-^

Molly dove under the operation table out of pure instinct as glass flew all over the room. Undyne was shouting orders at everyone to keep quiet, ironic with how loudly she was screaming them. The cat monster had seen the poor guard dusted in front of her eyes, and even though she had never seen their attacker before, Molly had heard enough stories to know what Dream’s brother looked like. The black tentacle couldn’t belong to anyone else.

More laughter, and Molly began to sob. She was terrified. What could the self proclaimed Lord of Negativity want with them? With Error? She had heard rumors of their collaborative efforts to invade universes together, but she hadn’t thought they were close, let alone what one would call ‘friends’.

She wouldn't let him fall into his grasp, if that’s what he had come for. No matter what, Nightmare couldn’t possibly have good intentions with the Destroyer. She would have to protect Error.

Slowly, she peeked her head over Error’s body, rubbing her tears away. All the others were huddled against the closest wall, trembling with horror. A shadow moved across the wall, and Molly ducked herself back under the table before a second tentacle arced into the room and smashed into a wall, diving into the metal like a sheet of paper, leaving a gaping hole when the appendage drew back. They moved like snakes, and two more crept into the room, trailing along the door frame and wrapping around the ankles of those cowering in the corners.

The alarms started blaring, and flashing red lights filled her vision. At least she could see now that blinding crimson washed over the room. The noise was awful, and she clutched two paws to her ears in discomfort.

A bird monster, appearing to be a more aged and intelligent version of Berdly, had his legs suddenly wrapped with a tentacle, and it began dragging him across the floor while he screamed and pleaded for help. All the others were too busy trying to make themselves invisible to the enemy to reach out and aid Nightmare's victim. He screeched for help as he was hauled towards the dark void of the hallway - the lair of the beast.

But suddenly, a burst of light came from nowhere. The attacker hissed. Undyne had taken a blaster out of her belt and fired at the tentacles holding her partners. Upon being hit, the snaky appendages would weaken and convulse, allowing plenty of time for the Berdly to escape.

Three more came crashing out of the dark hallway and into the room, and Undyne fired at all that she could, leaning against the wall for support and baring her teeth. More angered snarls came from the Lord of Negativity as holes were blown through his tentacles. He screamed in agony when a particularly large shot took the tip off of one.

**“WHERE IS THE DESTROYER??”** He screeched, his voice laced with echos. The room trembled from the sheer force Nightmare was exerting.

Molly had been right - he _was_ looking for the Destroyer. She flattened her ears against her head, needing to think. But it was difficult with the blaring sirens and the screams of her coworkers.

Undyne growled and cocked the gun, pulling a few switches on it. The end began to glow brightly, charging up. “He’s ours,” She said firmly. “Leave this place - you don’t belong here!”

The whine of the weapon built up until it reached its peak, before a ball of searing white light burst from the gun, blowing papers off the tables and scattering items to the floor. A shriek of anguish was heard from outside and all the tentacles that had latched themselves into the room were now severed, disconnected from their host, and wiggling around on the ground. They quickly melted into slimy black puddles.

Undyne quickly swung the door shut and locked it with a large metal handle, scrambling to a small radio, and unapologetically shoving everyone else aside. She pressed a finger down onto a button, screaming.

“BACKUP, BACKUP! GET ME BACK UP NOW!”

There was a roar, and a harsh bang on the door. With another strike from Nightmare the metal began to curve from impact. Undyne screamed louder into the intercom.

Molly’s jaw was dropped, watching the scene unfold in front of her - Undyne had been valiantly defending her co-workers from the beast outside the door. Many of the others in the room were slowly getting to their feet, summoning magical attacks into their hands and grabbing medical tools off the tray to try and combat the threat. With only the periodic flashing of red light, it was difficult to see, but they were all backed up in a corner. For some, flight wasn’t an option anymore, while the others were too busy having large-scale panic attacks.

Nightmare snarled again, a shrill laugh escaping his unseen form, pummeling the door with a barrage of snake-like limbs. Molly leaned her head against the table, tears spilling from her eyes as another pound on the door sent spikes of fear through her being. She had never felt so trapped and afraid in her entire life.

Another bang, and she felt something solid brush against her forehead. Molly scrambled away from the operation table. It was Error’s hand - the vibrations had jostled his arm off the bed. Amidst the chaos, she quickly scrabbled back to him, looking him over with fear-filled eyes, intermittently glancing back up at the door.

Despite their situation, he looked peaceful, as if he had a long day and was finally getting sleep. He appeared… innocent, with his features softened, his eyes closed gently, completely undisturbed by the chaos surrounding them. If they weren’t threatened with death, she would have wanted to scoop him up and tuck him somewhere nice and cozy, maybe with a blanket too. God knows he needed the rest.

With an addition slam, the door handle twisted to an uncomfortable point, and the metal was looking stretched thin, looking like it was about to burst. Molly laced her fingers through Error’s unconscious hand as the alarms kept blaring.

Undyne was backed up, crouched in a fighting stance with her blaster held steady in both hands. She kept her gaze locked on the door, ready to pull the trigger again at a moment’s notice while the few other researchers in the room began to ready themselves as well, forming a protective barrier around Error’s inert body.

The door handle ripped off the side as the metal became increasingly damaged, a small opening created between the door frame and the door. Nightmare chuckled on the the other side, and peeked his tentacles through the gap.

**“It’ll take more than a door to-“**

Nightmare’s threat was interrupted as gunshots and the cries of warriors rang out from the hallway. Molly couldn’t see what was going on, but there was definitely a struggle. From the sound of it, Nightmare was starting to get pissed off, hissing and shrieking as the clash of metal and the whoosh of magic was thrown around the outside of the room.

Molly could only sit silently and pray to anyone that might be listening to let them come out of this encounter with as few casualties as possible. She wanted to say no deaths, but it was already too late for that. She put a paw on Error’s rib cage protectively as gunshots and bangs were heard from outside.

Suddenly, the door flew off its hinges and crashed inside as if a bomb had gone off in the hall, about to smash against the table in the center of the room. Where Error was peacefully sleeping. Molly, out of instinct, wound her fist backwards and struck the loose piece of metal with more force than she thought she could muster, denting it even harder and flinging the massive thing back from where it came. She knew she had a little more strength than most monsters did, but she never thought she was so determined to save the skeleton as to deflect a fucking door with her fist.

But nobody noticed her feat of heroism. It was complete pandemonium. Everyone began screaming and making a dash for the open doorway, while Nightmare began to howl with laughter and jet his tentacles forward, stabbing most of those who tried to escape through their midsection and dusting the floor. Undyne ran outside to defend those who hadn’t been run through by Nightmare, creating a shield with more of her technological gadgets. This much Molly could infer from outside the door, listening to his victim’s screams as Nightmare held the fresh batch of guards behind him, each one slowly choking to death with the tentacles wrapped around their necks.

Now that she could actually see him, Molly felt like she was about to puke. His features were more terrifying that she could have ever dreamed - he was facing right, only one eye was shown. But could it even be called an eye? It looked more like a splotch of goo running down his head. His mouth was wrapped around the sides of his head in a wicked, jagged grin. His teeth looked like needles, and appeared to be an extension of the black slime covering the skeleton head to toe. As he let out a threatening roar, his body seemed to vibrate, as the goop bounced off his body in droplets.

He threw many of those who were hanging on to their last bit of life to the side, letting them claw at their throats for air. The alarms continued to scream, and Nightmare nonchalantly stabbed a tentacle through one of the blaring speakers.

Molly could hear Undyne shouting insults and instructions to the survivors to run, cry for help, call the council. Nightmare knocked her backwards in the middle of her spiel, sending her to the floor, and he huffed languidly.

**“Pitiful. I didn’t come for you, anyways.”**

Molly didn’t think twice before scooping Error’s body into her arms. He was like a rag doll, no movements, no breathing. His head flopped backwards over her forearm, so she had to support it with the crook of her elbow. She had to take him somewhere safe. She had to get somewhere -

It was too late, there was no escape. Nightmare turned to walk into the room, ignoring Undyne for the moment.

She didn’t think Nightmare had seen either her or Error, so she quickly ducked behind the table, squeezing Error tightly in her arms, like a mother trying to protect their baby from invaders. She curled up on herself, and put a hand to her mouth to muffle her breathing, the tears silently flowing again.

There was silence, save for the groaning of her coworkers in the halls, suffering from awful injuries and cast onto the ground like toys that Nightmare didn’t want to play with anymore.

She shut her eyes and tried to think of something else, but the invasive vision of Nightmare surveying the room with his one awful eye, approaching the two of them like a predator wormed itself into her mind. She could hear his heavy breathing, as he clambered into the room. Looking for Error.

She curled up even tighter, hugging the Destroyer to her chest. She could hear him, he was coming closer he was right next to the operating table oh god please she wasn’t that strong she couldn’t protect him please-

_BANG BANG BANG_

“HEY LOSER!! OVER HERE!! CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, FUCKTARD!!”

Nightmare reeled back in fury as Undyne began sprinting down the hallway, a difficult feat for someone in such high, skinny heels. Nightmare quickly chased after her, exiting the room with a trail of bangs and crashes, making no effort to preserve the tidiness of the work station. He hadn’t seen them.

Molly almost passed out in relief, and made a mental note to thank Undyne a million times over again once this ordeal was over. She absent-mindedly began to pet Error’s skull, and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, her paws still shaking excessively as she dialed the number of Alchemy. She wasn’t sure if word had reached him or not, but decided to call anyways. Molly pressed the phone against her ear, trying to block out the ear-splitting alarms and noises of battle down the hall.

 

\----------~*~*~----------

Silver was hiding in the cupboard below the sink. In a panic, he had jumped into the nearest hidey hole he could find when the lights had shut off and the screams and shouts began. He knew that the euthanasia was being performed in the other room, but had chosen not to watch, sitting in the break room. He didn’t like watching things die, and he knew the event would loop in his mind for the next year if he had decided to see.

But it was times like these where he wished his universe had never made contact with the outside world. Silver’s original timeline - EchoCross, was… chill. Very chill. He had been exposed to a very serious and laid back lifestyle, not at all similar to the one he was surrounded with now. It seemed like some crisis was constantly threatening the lives of so many, but never before had he been caught in the crossfire of the conflict. When his universe learned of its thousands of parallel copies, Silver decided to explore and call the vast multiverse his home, eager to be a part of something greater, and even leaving his boyfriend at the time behind. His Sans and he were still together, but at times the distance made it hard for the two of them.

Now, more than ever, he just wanted to return to the gray scale fields of his home. Safely.

He couldn’t see anything in the darkness, and the space under the sink was painfully small, but his fear of being mutilated outweighed his discomfort. He didn’t know what was happening, and sat shaking, rattling the pipes his knees were pressed against. Had Error escaped? Did he go free, and now was taking his revenge on them? If that were the case then they were doomed. No one could even come close to combating the Destroyer of Universes other than Ink and Dream.

Noises rang out from down the hall, followed by an animalistic screech. Did they let a velociraptor in the hallways? What the hell had they done??

Footsteps approached and Silver curled up on himself even more. The door slammed open and shut again, as Undyne cried out a few profanities from outside. Then it was silent. The thought of an unknown being in the room made his stomach bristle with butterflies.

He didn’t finished his train of thought before a loud exhale was heard, deep and reverberating. It sent shivers down his spine - this was not one of his coworkers.

Silver was debating on whether he should open the door or not, to see if he could take a peek at who ever had come inside. It sounded like they were out of breath, but he didn’t want to risk being found out, so he strained his hearing and listened the best he could.

The mysterious being was silent for a few moments, before a small vibration was heard, and ‘Take on Me’ began playing at maximum volume. There rustling around with fabric, most likely their clothes, and the ringtone stopped playing as they picked up the phone.

“Hello?” the voice said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and Silver’s brain had to do a double take. The tone was soft but masculine, and nothing like the chillingly deep breathing he had heard before. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Or perhaps there were two people in the room?

They continued speaking. “What?? Nightmare?? How did he get in?? I-I thought that-”

They paused. “Yes. Yes I’ll head over to the lab right now. Were there any casualties?” Pause. “Oh… Oh my god well, I’ll get there in a minute. I’m in OuterSwapFell right now - I’ll be there in just a moment.” Pause. “No, I had no idea. I didn’t think he was capable of getting in.” Pause. “Error?” Pause. “Alright, well, I’ll be there, and I will help to take him down!”

Silver’s mind was spinning with questions, especially on who was right outside his enclosed space. It had to be a Sans - the voice matched up. But whoever it was definitely wasn’t in OuterSwapFell, like they said they were. His mind was too clouded over with panic and desperation to really think these sorts of things through.

He pressed a palm against the cupboard door and pushed it open, bumbling out of the cramped space, and breathing in relief. He brushed his bangs out of his eyes and was about to speak when-

No.

No no no.

Silver began to shake, and wished he hadn’t come out from underneath the cupboard. The… _demon_ with the mismatched, peppy voice tilted his head and gave a wicked smile.

“Okay!” It said happily, staring down Silver hungrily. “I’m coming ASAP, bye!!”

Silver was on the ground trembling in fear, wondering if this was the beast that caused the alarms to start screaming. It hung up, not breaking eye-contact with Silver, still grinning.

Slowly, the creature slipped the phone into its pocket and its eye glowed with malice, shining under the flashing red lights above.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.” It hissed.

Before Silver could process what was happening, a sharp, elongated object sliced through his heart.

 

\----------~*~*~----------

Alchemy and Dream rode down the elevator, almost wishing they could will it to go faster. The council building had a strict no-teleportation charm surrounding the building, to prevent any thieves or those without access to the place from entering. Sadly, this included the high ranking members of the council building as well, so all traveling had to be done on foot.

Two magical purple runes circled in Alchemy’s palms, ready to strike the second the doors of the elevator opened, and his gaze was locked on the doors, occasionally flicking to the sign above head, telling the floor they were currently on. Floor 6

Shadows passed over Alchemy’s face as they rapidly descended, and Dream looked up to him warily, fiddling with his scepter. “Alchemy?”

“What,” was the quick response. Alchemy didn’t turn to meet his gaze. The galactic cloak he usually he had draped and clasped around his shoulders was absent, revealing a well-fitting suit, with long tail coats and a crisp collar - easier for physical combat.

But that was just in case - it was rare that any being would not instantly be demolished with the power of his reality-bending magic. But they were dealing with Dream’s brother, and from what reports described, and he was quite strong. But Alchemy was still an endless amount of times stronger, being the literal embodiment of magic. While wearing the cloak, his body was concealed and he could easily float around, but without the powerful aura that surrounded the garment, his form was solely physical; his skeletal structure solid.

Dream ran his fingers over the grooves of his staff anxiously. “I haven’t seen my brother in a while… what should… how are we-“

“I don’t know,” replied Alchemy, stony faced. “We will not kill your brother - we merely need to save those who are down there right now and find a way to either capture Nightmare or drive him away. They need our help, Dream.”

Dream exhaled and his golden eyes regarded the counter above the doors: floor 10. The floors of the building were greatly spaced out in order to reinforce their solidarity - especially this floor, almost three times as far apart as the other levels.

“I called Ink.” Dream said quietly, his nerves getting a hold of his voice, quavering. “H-He said he’d be down here soon, and that he was in OuterSwapFell. He should be getting to the lab any minute now.”

“Well he’ll have to take the elevator down, and therefore wait for us to descend, for the elevator to return back up again, and then have it crawl all the way back down.”

“Yeah…”

Silence.

“Were you really going to kill Error today?”

Alchemy was quiet for a few, and finally responded gravely. “Yes.”

“...Did you run all your tests?”

“Yes.”

“And he was weak and defenseless, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… why wasn’t reforming him a possibility, like we did with all the others?”

Alchemy inhaled deeply. “How do you think the world would react if they saw Error walking the streets? The same person who is the reason we’re all camped out in this timeline like frightened rabbits? The one responsible for the existence of this timeline - the whole purpose being to keep him out?”

“They’d be scared…”

“And who’s fault would that be?”

“...”

“Well?”

“...yours?”

“Precisely. I’m balancing these people’s fate on my shoulders. One wrong move and I’m the villain in this story. Even if people accept him and everything’s fine and dandy, let’s pretend, surprise surprise, he isn’t really reformed and he’s playing us like the consummate actor he is. And now - he’s got the whole Omega Timeline to himself. Do you understand?”

Dream nodded, and Alchemy muttered one last thing before the doors slid opened:

“...I better see the Destroyer as nothing but piles of dust after this whole ordeal - it’s dragging out longer than it needs to.”

 

\----------~*~*~----------

Error was starting to twitch. His jagged breathing was beginning to return, and his fingers gripped onto whatever they could find. Molly could see he was waking up.

“Shhh…” she hushed, gently petting his skull. “Shh, it’s alright…”

The two were alone, in the large metal room that held his glass box of water, now drained as Error was out of his little cell. Molly was curled up in a corner of the room, cradling him like a small baby. The darkness of the room strained her eyes, and only one emergency light embedded into the ceiling was switched on, eerily shining a single beacon of light in the center of the room.

The chaos outside had stopped, and she could hear the incessant chatter of those outside the hallway. Alchemy must have arrived with backup, and from the sounds of it, Nightmare had vanished. There were no more war cries from outside the door like there had been when she made a mad dash for the deserted room.

She wanted to go out and recount her experiences to whichever guards had been sent down, but was still carrying the Destroyer in her arms. So what to do with him? Molly was afraid that if she brought him back to the operation room they might continue on with the euthanasia after making sure the building was clear. They probably wouldn’t, after everything that just happened, but it was a risk she didn't want to take. Plus, her experience with Dream’s brother still traumatized her, and made her terrified to leave her safe space.

The Destroyer began fluttering his fingers, and something occurred to Molly. The amnesia medication would be wearing off soon. If he were to awaken, with his thoughts and memories intact, there was only one thing he was likely to do.

She couldn’t allow this situation to descend even farther into chaos than it already had. Molly looked down at the stirring skeleton and quickly devised a solution.

“I’m sorry… you know I don’t like doing this to you…” The calico cat quickly stood up and crossed the room, still holding the Destroyer in her arms. With a few taps of her finger, the glass door to his cell swung open, and she gently laid him down inside. A sudden thump, and voices down the hall. She had to be quick about her work - what she was doing was wholly unauthorized, but there wasn’t any other choice.

She quickly swung the gas mask onto his skull and adjusted it onto his nose and mouth, holding his head above the ground. It was difficult to fix it to him while his body was not dissimilar to a doll. As she worked, Error was becoming more and more aware of the world around him, and was weakly trying to fight her off, turning his head and scrunching up his face and giving a few pitiful whimpers, like a tired child that didn’t want to go to sleep but was being laid in bed.

Error started to crack open his eyes, and Molly worked faster. She finally fastened the last strap tightly onto his head and stepped back, and Error began making pitiful moans and noises. With a few buttons, the door swung shut and the release of high pressure gas was heard as it started flowing through the tube. She put a paw on the glass and watched him intently as his twitches started to die down, and the anesthesia did its work.

It was clear he was fighting the medicine. He kept trying to open his eyes, only to completely drain his energy reserves and close them again. He gave a weak groan of agony, his fingers scraping against the hard ground, and he miraculously choked out a few words that Molly barely understood through the muffle of the glass.

“Said… it wou-ould...st...op… stop...”

His arms and legs jerked a few times, while his senses were numbed by lungfuls of gas he was inhaling. The movements repeated a few more times until he finally fell back into a forced coma for the third time that day, but not before saying one last thing.

“...Let...me le...ave… sle...ep…forever... I d-d-don’t wanna… stay awake. any...more...”

Molly watched him a little longer, sprawled on the solid ground of the cell like a corpse, and then turned and left the building, sprinting as fast as she could go, feeling atrocious.

 

\----------~*~*~----------

“Thank God you’re here. Quickly, I don’t know where he is. He already blew threw most of our backup guards, and it looks like the body count is adding up to about five. Injuries are a whole different story.”

Undyne flipped a switch on her blaster and deactivated it, looking to those who came under Nightmare’s attack. The workers who were too injured to walk, which was most of those in the operation room, were leaned against the wall in a more comfortable position to nurse their wounds, while those knowledgeable in first aid or those who possessed healing magic came to their side to help them patch up.

“Thank you, Undyne. You’re nobility will not be forgotten. Could you explain what happened, exactly?” Alchemy questioned.

“We were about to perform the scheduled operation - everything was running smoothly. And then it all went to shit. The lights shut off, and then Nightmare burst in, killing the guards in front of the doorway, and then attacking everyone else in the room. Thank the heavens I had my blaster on me or the death toll would have been much higher, I can assure you. The others who are down here are unharmed, and are currently locked down in the rooms they were located in when the attack happened. I’ve sent someone to check on them - they’re alright. Scared to death, but alright.”

Alchemy nodded, his ring-shaped eyelights burning bright purple. “I see. His motives?”

“To get to the Destroyer. He made that part specifically clear.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The God of Magic stared down at her, before walking forward without another word. Small runes were glowing in his palms, ready to strike down the nearest threat.

“More details, please.”

“Well, I fought him off.” Undyne continued, leaning against the wall. The emergency lights had been switched on - and they were blinding. Her throbbing headache was not welcoming towards the brightness. “He broke down the door and everyone made a mad dash for it, either trying to find safety or make a dent in his HP. He barely even paid attention to our efforts, and just - threw all the guards aside. Nightmare was making for the operation room, but I distracted him and sprinted down the hall as fast as I could. Soon, the only footsteps I could hear were my own…” She clutched at her arm and hissed. During the attack she had bent it in a way that wasn’t supposed to be bent.

Dream stepped up from behind Alchemy, anxiously tracing his fingers over the points his scepter. He had been tending to those who had been injured and helped them heal, but heavy uneasiness could be read on his face. “There’s a lot of… negativity in here…” He said slowly, eyes trained on the floor.

“Well no duh,” Undyne said, rolling her eyes. “Several monsters were on the brink of being dusted. I don’t suppose that would anyone in a peachy mood, Einstein.”

Alchemy cut in before Dream could say anything back. “If Nightmare is still lurking in one of these rooms then we need to scout him down immediately before he does more harm. And then onto the question of how he even got into the Omega Timeline to begin with. It should be impossible for him to access this timeline, let alone, enter the Council building.”

He turned to Dream, like the crowned skeleton might know something about Nightmare that Alchemy didn’t, but Dream just shrugged anxiously. A guard suddenly approached Undyne, and whispered something short and grave into her ear. The fish monster frowned.

“What is it?” An orange Alphys called, adjusting her cracked and dirty glasses.

“...They found Silver dead - stabbed through the heart. He was in the break room while we performed the operation, and the wound is fresh - Nightmare can’t have gone far.”

Alchemy inhaled deeply and the arcane symbols that shone on his palms grew brighter. “Me and Dream will scour the building for any signs of him. For now, I want the rest of you to ensure the safety of the Destroyer - and perhaps put him down as soon as possible. If Error is what Nightmare is coming after then we will need to kill him immediately. We can’t afford anymore atta-”

“HE’S _GONE!!”_ Someone shrieked, and every head in the hallway whipped towards the voice. More people tried to cram into the small door frame than what the space would allow, if only to take a peek at what had disappeared. Dream felt his soul pound and feared the worst. Sure enough, the comforted table which Error had been laying inert on only moments before was now empty.

The Berdly began to spout panicked thoughts out of his beak like a jet-streamed hose of anxiety. “If Nightmare took the Destroyer and nursed him back to health while still keeping him on the pills he could train Error into become his personal weapon of destruction and under his guidance create a being that’s completely and mindlessly obedient and loyal out of the most destructive force in the multiverse, debatably the omniverse and if Nightmare now knows how to access the Omega Timeline he could come back with Error on a leash and create a multiverse of pain and never ending agony!!!!”

The ramblings immediately sent everyone into a panic. Alchemy looked like he was about to combust with rage, Dream looked sick, and Undyne’s face slowly turned pallid with fear at her failure.

However, footsteps were suddenly heard running down the halls, and Molly stepped into the light, looking distressed.

“Don’t… Don’t freak o-out…” She said, hands on her knees. “I took Error into his cell and put him back to sleep with the gas mask before he could wake up.” Her eyes were misty, and her hard breathing seemed to be more related to stress than physical exertion.

She took a few more laborious inhales, and continued, everyone’s eyes on her. “It wasn’t anticipated that he would wake up again, so the tranquilizer was starting to wear off, as was the amnesia medication. I locked him back up before he had the potential to do any more damage to what is already a dreadful situation.”

Undyne turned on her, wavering uncertainty like she would pass out any moment. “I don’t believe anyone gave you permission to-”

Molly cut her off. “We didn’t have a choice. I did what I had to do.”

“Well, instead of strapping a gas mask on him and wasting more of our resources, couldn’t you have just blown a hole in his skull with your fist and disposed of him?”

The cat monster’s ears folded back and she growled. “You _heartless-_ ”

Alchemy broke their bickering before more harm was done. “Stop. This is getting us nowhere. Now that we know Error isn’t in the hands of Nightmare we can continue our search for him. He can’t have gone far - teleportation is strictly forbidden in the council. Dream will bring a team along with him and help to find Nightmare, wherever he may be. You can detect his aura specifically, can’t you?”

Dream nodded, and adjusted the halo shaped crown on his head. “Yes. We share a deep connection - we are, in a way, more than brothers. We’re apples from the same tree - he’s my opposite.”

“Good. Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to tell where he is, or where he’s gone?”

“I mean…” Dream stammered, “I hope not…”

“Then I suggest you get a move on as quickly as possible. I was going to send Ink along with you but it seems like he has better things to do than-”

_Ding!_ The elevator doors slid open, and Ink hurried out, clutching his paintbrush in his hands.

“Hey guys! I’m so sorry I’m late. What’s going on? Where is Nightmare?”

Alchemy, Undyne and Molly began to fill him in on the situation, and while they were all talking, Dream innocuously looked the Creator over.

The tip of his brush was coated in black ink, and his vials that contained the ability to feel hatred and rage were among all the other emotions, but completely empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this answer your questions?
> 
> Also - I just wanna say something pertaining to fanart. In the highly unlikely situation that someone decides to draw something - ANYTHING - for my story - PleasepleasepleasePlease
> 
> TELL ME!!!
> 
> I really really want to see it!!!! The thought that someone may draw something and I never see it saddens me greatly. Thank you :D


	10. Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s split up, gang!
> 
> Featuring Ink, being an Absolute Bastard™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAIT! Before you start... I received... the artworks!!!! :DDD
> 
> Spifalling on Tumblr - https://spifalling.tumblr.com/search/The%20council%20of%20the%20inevitable%20 
> 
> Shimokomoriya on DeviantArt - https://www.deviantart.com/shimokomoriya/art/Hiding-Error-801224906
> 
> Ssud25 on DeviantArt - https://www.deviantart.com/ssud25/art/Fanart-for-The-Council-of-the-Inevitable-801382172
> 
> Also TheGrinningKitten did some doodles on Twitter too and the fact that they even looked at story makes me want to pass out from joy
> 
> (Fyi- any artwork I receive will be linked in the next chapter!! (Unless you don’t want it to) Remember to tell me if you see anything! I don’t want to miss something 😅)

Ink drummed his fingers against the wooden handle of his paintbrush. “Maybe we could split up?” He suggested. “Divide and conquer, y’know?”

“That would be _great,_ but seeing as Nightmare’s not an inanimate object and is… well, pretty damn powerful, that wouldn’t do us any good, would it? Besides - he probably left when he figured out you and the others came down.” Undyne said, scowling with every word out of her mouth. Ink for some reason looked personally offended by her attitude.

“Why are you _so_ negative all the time?” He put his hands on his hips, and Alchemy rolled his eyelights so hard they disappeared into the back of his head for a few.

Undyne looked like she was going to blow a fuse. “Well forgive _me,_ I can’t just pick and choose like you, Mr. Smiley.” She flicked one of his glass vials to emphasize, and Ink immediately leapt back.

“Hey! Those aren’t for you to touch!”

“Then stop being a little peppy shithead when people around you are being treated for life-threatening wounds, and I might consider your offer.”

Ink gave her a glare. It was very ineffective. He turned to Dream, muttering. “...Is she always like this?”

“...” Dream blinked at him a few times. “I haven’t seen her any more than you have. I don’t - I don’t really know her too well.” His voice trailed off quietly.

Ink’s concern kicked in. “Hey, are you okay?”

The crowned skeleton shook his head, his cheeks colored with a tinge of green. “No.”

“What’s going-“ Alchemy started, before Dream cut him off.

“Something’s wrong. I-I don’t feel good about this at all…”

At that moment, the elevator dinged again, and out rushed a team of paramedics and extra soldiers. The hallway was packed with bodies. Alchemy, Dream, Ink and Swapfell Undyne stood farther away from the crowd. No one dared to disturb their talk. The soldiers, consisting mostly of Undynes and various dog guards, began to search for any threat that could be lurking in the halls without a word.

Ink watched the doctors tend to the others with an intense gaze, and Dream keep talking.

“I don’t… know how to explain it. I just… I really want to trust my gut on this one. And I think you all should as well.”

“About what?” Undyne asked.

“...trusting me on this.”

“No I mean like - trust you with what?”

Dream was silent for a few, and his golden eyelights darted around nervously. “Just - that I don’t think… this will end well…”

Ink turned his attention back to the group and scratched his cheek. “Well, it looks like it already ended, Dream. How about we call it a day?”

“You are acting so _fucking_ weird.” Undyne growled at him. “I will snap your jaw in half if you keep acting this nonchalant. I thought you just said we should look for him.”

“I changed my mind! We must have scared him away.” The artist was gently rocking on his heels where he stood - a sign of anxiety.

“Even so, he has nowhere to go.” Alchemy said, growing tired. “The whole building is teleport-resistant, and the Omega Timeline wouldn’t allow someone to pass through its exit so easy.”

Dream’s breathing was heavy. “But he got in… that’s really bad if he got in… I can’t… I can’t-!” He cut off abruptly, his small hands were shaking where he held them.

“...Dreamy?” Ink asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. His friend was not in good condition. His knees were knocking and he was slightly hunched over. Dream pushed him away before Ink could get too comfy.

“...’M not feeling good…” He breathed. “Headache…”

Ink started rustling around in a small brown satchel. “I-I have pain meds-!”

Dream waved him away, and stood to his full height again, taking a deep breath in, holding it, and then exhaling slowly. “Sorry. I think I’m f-fine…”

Alchemy bent over. “You don’t look fine… you’re positively pale!”

Dream averted his eyes, mouth curved into an anxious frown as his fingers tapped together. Undyne looked like she couldn’t have cared less.

“Look, we have better things to do than tend to his little head cold. If Nightmare’s still here, then that should be our number one priority in-“

“He’s not.” Dream said. Undyne blinked at him, annoyed.

“Who asked for y-“

“He’s not. Here. Undyne.” Dream said, looking slightly pissed off, trying to keep from breaking down. “I know when he’s here - he has a very distinct aura. His aura is completely lacking from the building.”

Silence.

“Are you sure?”

Dream tightened his lips and looked at her with mild anger. She took the message and raised her hands in mock defense. “Alright, alright. Don’t maim me with that magic wand you got there, Captain Sparkles.”

“But how would we find Nightmare? Dream, can you feel him in the building?” Ink asked.

“N-no… I can’t even feel any traces of h-“

“See?” Ink said, gesturing to Dream to prove his point. “Guess he’s not here.”

“That’s a really shitty-“

_Crash_

A noise sounded from down the dark hallway. The chatter from those recovering immediately died down, and only a few anxious whispers were passed. Everyone remained silent as the seconds ticked by. After all the events that just transpired, no one in the building wasn’t on edge.

As soon as everyone began to calm themselves down, a goopy black tentacle crept out from around the corner, dragged itself down the wall, and then slithered back into the unseen. It’s movement was silent and barely noticeable, and not many people saw it against the shadows, including Alchemy, Ink and Dream. However, a few others saw the sneak peek. They didn’t keep quiet, scrambling against the walls.

“THERE! I SAW HIM!” They cried.

“Around the corner-!”

“There! He’s right there!”

Alchemy and Dream wheeled around to face the place the others swear they saw Nightmare’s tentacle show. Sure enough, there was a small splotch if black slime on the wall, dripping onto the floor. The runes in the God of Magic’s palms began to sear a bright purple as his forearms swirled with a crescent shaped flame.

“Can you feel him here, Dream?”

Alchemy was met with nothing but silence. He turned to face him. “Dream??”

Dream’s eyes were as wide as he could make them, his eyelights behaving in the exact opposite way: shrinking down until they were barely visible. His shaky vision was trained downwards, and Alchemy cast a glance to where he presumed Dream was staring. He found nothing.

Dream finally answered his question. “No.”

Undyne snarled in dismay and put a hand on her blaster. “Then we’re being tricked. But I can guarantee - who I saw earlier could not have been anyone but Dream’s dastardly brother. Goopy, one-eyed freak who looks like an octopus with a severe deformity?”

“...Sure.” Responded Dream.

The fish monster had paid no attention to his strange behavior and began to charge her weapon. She barked orders at the armor clad guards and they saluted, rushing in towards the threat.

“Ink - I know you’ve been out of it for the last few weeks, and I can understand that you’re still not… completely back to an emotional balance. But remember what you said? Divide and conquer? I think that’s an excellent idea.” Alchemy remarked.

Dream paled. “Wait I-“

Before another word could out of Dream’s mouth Ink immediately grinned. “Awesome! Where are we going??”

“It doesn’t matter I suppose. The sooner we catch this threat, the better. Dream-“ The god of magic said, turning and kneeling down to Dream’s height. “If you aren’t feeling good then you can stay. But you are very strong - we need your help. Can you assist us?”

Inhale - 1,2,3 - exhale - 1,2,3

“...I’ll come.” Dream said after clearing his mental palette.

“Excellent. You both have the communication watches I equipped you with, right?” The two shorter skeletons nodded and held up their arms. They both had small metal bands around their wrists, a few blinking lights on each device. Alchemy looked satisfied with this and began to set off, motioning of the others to do the same.

Dream cast one last glance at Ink and felt one of those strange warning chills flutter down his spine. Ink was smiling too wide. He felt another wave of nausea.

—————~*~*~—————

**Unknown Contact:** well?? Is it done??

 **You:** nope

 **Unknown Contact:** why not??

 **You:** eeeuuuuuummmmmmmmmm complications

 **Unknown Contact:** ????

 **You:** Look I know this might sound weird but Nightmare’s here???

 **Unknown Contact:** That’s not true. He’s at the castle

 **You:** I know. It’s a trick

 **Unknown Contact:** Is my ex there

 **You:** nah. She’s busy and not really involved in this stuff.

 **Unknown Contact:** k

 **Unknown Contact:** u still there?

 **You:** yea

 **Unknown Contact:** we need the soul. Don’t let them see you

 **You:** i kno why do you think I’m fucking here

 **Unknown Contact:** well hurry

 **You:** I’m trying

 **Unknown Contact:** you type slow

 **You:** no shit I don’t have fingers dumbass.

 **Unknown Contact:** oh yeah lol. Grow some XD

 **You:** screw u

 **Unknown Contact:** Call me then

 **You:** I can’t speak.

 **You:** I literally am incapable of speech right now you fucking moron

 **Unknown Contact:** I know that’s why I’m asking you lmaooooo

 **Unknown Contact:** anyways make sure he’s dead. Pls.

 **You:** U sure Nightmare’s at the castle?

 **Unknown Contact:** YES. Figure out who’s making this distraction and get them to finish their business.

 **You:** yeah bye

—————~*~*~—————

One important thing about the council building was that it was big. Everyone knew that. There was a terrific amount of rooms, floors and hallways, that would make the place appear as if it was endless. A number of things had to be hosted and stored in the building, and a number of people had to work there.

However, the place of Error’s captivity wasn’t large in comparison to the rest of the council. It was only dedicated to one person, after all. But seeing this person was one of the most powerful beings in existence, some precautions had to be made to ensure not only the security of the people working there but also the prisoner. In essence, security was more emphasized than space. But regardless, it was still quite large.

Everyone that entered the lab had to have a photo ID, a code, and a magical scan, just to make sure you weren’t using a spell to disguise yourself as someone else. Alchemy, Dream, Ink, and all the other members of the council were instantly accepted into the system, obviously. But for everyone else, it was a more tedious process to be admitted.

So the fact that Nightmare (or whoever had broken in) had entered the lab, caused havoc looking for Error, and then seemingly vanished concerned Alchemy deeply.

It should have been impossible. Yet somehow the attacker was able to take five lives without much difficulty. There were no records of anyone entering the floor with the use of the elevator, and that shouldn’t have been possible. All those involved with the attack claimed the lights shut off right as the attack began - also something that shouldn’t have happened. Alchemy’s mind was racing.

He wandered through one of the empty corridors, a hex on the tip of his tongue. Dream, Ink and Undyne had decided to split up and scour for clues or evidence to piece behind the hows and whys of the attack. The others were too frightened to wander around, scared Nightmare might pounce on them. But even though Alchemy’s magic was at the ready, he trusted Dream’s sixth sense - Nightmare was not here.

Alchemy always thought the two friends Dream and Ink strange, but today seemed to be something special. Dream seemed to be coming down with some sort of sickness, and Ink… was there any real way to describe him? His next moves and words could never be predicted, seeing as his state of being was a very unique case. Perhaps Alchemy would have to see about adding additional stability to his vials - he couldn’t seem to control them lately.

Ink was _way_ too jumpy while they were talking. Maybe he had too much anxiety in his system he needed to exhaust.

Alchemy passed many rooms, with their doors fastened shut. He was well aware that they were filled with cowering researchers, and decided not to disturb them. Those who hadn’t attended the operation had been locked down in the rooms they were stationed, waiting for the all clear to leave. 

A few doors were open though.

Alchemy peered through an open door on his right, and frowned. Nothing was there, except a few gadgets and machines. He recognized some of the inventions - such as a machine that looked like a dentist’s chair with a robotic arm and a small needle equipped at the top. The purpose had been to drill a geometrical groove into Error’s shoulder blade and imbed it with a tracking chip, as well as brand the skeleton with a number (“Just in case he clones himself or another Destroyer was ever to appear!”). But when Error was actually brought in, the idea was immediately scrapped. He wasn’t going anywhere without supervision, and there was only one of him anyways. Plus, he wasn’t a cow, and therefore didn’t need a mark of property carved into his bones. That was way too sadistic for Alchemy to handle.

But the other device?

Well, it was even worse. He didn’t like thinking about it. As it was, their government didn’t have a supreme leader. All the power came through the people - they channeled their wills through the ones with the most magical abilities. And Alchemy liked to trust that the people he governed could take care of themselves.

But occasionally he had to draw the line. He was fine with them putting Error to sleep, for then he wasn’t in any real pain. He was alright with the idea of amnesia pills - it would make things easier for both him and the others. And he was iffy with the water. Error’s mind was shut down, and he felt no agony or sorrow, even though it may have hurt. Alchemy, during a few of his check ins with the progress of the facility, did have to turn a few things down as an official order.

But he nearly disintegrated someone for earnestly presenting his idea of a soul handler. It turns out the original plan for Error was to keep his soul locked in a spiked chain, puncturing it whenever he did something wrong. And apparently, they had wanted to make a public spectacle out of the Destroyer’s torture. They had wanted to put him up on display as they mutilated his mind.

He understood that they hated the Destroyer, and he knew of all the ones held dear that he had taken from them, but sometimes their loathing drove them too far.

The unused chains were still sitting there, melded into the shape of a heart to fit the soul.

How ironic.

…

Alchemy’s face twisted into a frown.

Another reason he denied the process was because it took too long. They had to get the information they wanted, and then kill him. Simple as that. This system was much more efficient. The soul handler wouldn’t make a quick and clean job of Error.

…

He was wasting time.

Find the threat, eliminate it, get back on track.

The god of magic continued his search. His dress shoes meeting tile were the only sound to echo as he walked.

There was nothing. He lowered his guard as he scouted, exhaling loudly. Perhaps the others would have better luck.

And then he caught it. Something out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head around in alarm as the tip of what looked like a snake’s tail slithered around the corner. It was only there for a split second, but it was there, Alchemy was sure of it.

The God raised his hands and ignited sparks into his palms striding over quickly but silently. He had to be cautious if he wanted to catch it by surprise.

He took a few breaths, and then leaped from behind the corner, ready to strike, but the glow faded from his hands when he realized nothing was there.

He stood there confused for a second, blinking and glancing around for the creature. 

And then a metal vent cover ripped itself loose from the wall and threw itself at Alchemy’s head.

The Magigod barely had time to deflect it with a rune, ducking down with a startled shout. It bounced off his magical shield and clattered noisily to the ground. Through his transparent magic, he could just about make out… _something._ Its outline was sheer, and its body was the exact same color as the wall it sat on, making it difficult to identify. The only evidence there was even a creature there was a slight delay in its coloration as it climbed up the wall, as well as the odd, distorted perspective it gave of its background.

It made weird gurgling noises from above as the sound of tiny limbs against the thin metal of the vent grew distant.

He slowly collected himself, before raising a watch on his arm to his mouth, speaking slowly.

“Dream, Ink, something’s still in the building.”

—————~*~*~—————

The crowned skeleton received the message and spoke back. “What does it look like?”

“That’s the thing,” Alchemy’s voice responded. “It’s using some form of camouflage. I wasn’t able to make out a distinct form or shape. But I did see something that resembled the tail of a snake out of the corner of my eye.”

“A snake?”

“I think so. It went through the ventilation.”

Dream bit his lip in thought, before an idea came to his mind. “What color was it?”

“I didn’t see.”

“I mean, we know a figure with tentacles just attacked the council… but I highly doubt that Nightmare was here. No, I _know_ he wasn’t here. Maybe that wasn’t a tail but… a tentacle?”

“Are you assuming that that creature may have been responsible for the attack?”

“I mean, maybe?”

“Dream, that thing couldn’t have been more than half a foot tall. It was most definitely not the attacker.”

“...Oh.”

“We have enough evidence to prove that it was your brother, but we can look out for more possibly contradictory information. We’re putting the pieces together, slowly but surely.”

“Thank you, Alchemy. I, uh, haven’t found my brother, but I’ll make sure to warn the others about whatever’s crawling around the building.”

“Thank you. Anything extra you’ve happened to discover?”

“...”

Dream was in Undyne’s office. Probably not the most authorized place to search, but he had searched anyways. Besides, he hadn’t known it was hers, anyways, until he had read the small name tag on the desk.

In his personal opinion, her office was a trainwreck. There were medical tools scattered around the desk and papers all over the place, as well as mysterious splotches of what he presumed to be blood. 

It didn’t look like her office was hiding his brother, (he couldn’t feel him in the building at all!), but he wanted to check anyways. Then, one thing led to another and he began to...explore. He had glanced at the contents of her drawers for a while, and was about to leave when he suddenly found the holy grail.

Dream knew that he was sometimes naïve, but he was certainly not stupid. He could tell when people were hiding things. 

He quickly pocketed the Destroyer’s cellphone, which had been sitting in Undyne’s desk drawer in a ziplock bag.

“No. Not really.” He replied. “Ink, What about you?”

…

“Ink?”

…

Ink wasn’t answering.

—————~*~*~—————

Ink wasn’t listening either. He was running down the hall, his watch muted. Not once did he stop in one of the open doorways - he knew better than anyone else that there was no one hiding in there. No, he only had one thing on his mind and it had been postponed for too long.

He passed by a few people, but didn’t respond to their questions. No time. The Guardian sprinted towards the room he needed to go.

Peeking his head around a corner, he sighed. There it was. Two armored guards blocked the door, one looking bored, the other looking terrified. Ink quickly assessed the situation and hid behind the wall once again before they had a chance to spot him.

Blinking a few times, he turned to face the metal wall, taking note of his reflection. While talking with Alchemy, he did his best to put up a facade, but the bags under his eyes were clear as day, and his body seemed to be drooping, unable to carry his own weight. It figured - he hadn’t slept in six days. He was just glad all the positive vials helped him power through his confrontation with the two friends without all that much suspicion.

The Creator examined his reflection for a few more beats. He licked his thumb and scrubbed at the small black patch on his cheek. Nothing came off, of course, but he just had to make sure no black ink had managed to escape his scrutiny and crust over. It was harder to spot when it was hidden among the same shade of black, rather than plastered on the rest of his pearly white bones.

He adjusted his scarf and smiled, switching his eyelights from their plain white dots to his usual colorful shapes. He was so excited! He had planned this for so long, and was elated to see it finally coming into fruition, even if it was a little off course. But that was alright! This was only a minor detour, after all.

Confidently, he strode around the corner, trying to put up a serious front for the guards, but frequently failing and letting a little smirk show through. He approached the two soldiers and cleared his throat. They looked at him as if Ink were a child.

“Hi!” Ink said, giving a small wave. “So… you know who I am, right? Ink, Guardian of the AUs, Protector of the Multiverse, Creator of Worlds?”

“Um… yes?”

“Well now you don’t!”

_THUNK. THUNK._

The guards passed out before they even hit the floor. Ink was worried that maybe he had hit them too hard, but the shaft of his paintbrush was a soft and hollow wood. It couldn’t have done that much damage. Just enough to strike them unconscious, though.

He whipped his head left and right, looking for any sign of activity, and when he found none, he continued with his plan. Thank the stars he had disabled the security cameras before he started this whole operation.

Ink unscrewed the cap from a small bottle of pills and shook two into his palm. He took a moment to study them - they were red, and oval shaped. Very shiny and smooth as well, almost looking like bits of stained glass. 

The mouth of the guards were hanging open, which left Ink not much work to do. He dropped the pills onto their tongues and let the medication dissolve, closing their mouths. When they woke up, they wouldn’t even remember how to speak.

He was so lucky he was able to nab the amnesia pills from the operation room. His original plan would have been to kill the guards, but… that would make him feel _guilty_ later, and he hated that emotion. 

Plus, Ink had to remind himself that he wasn’t doing this for his own sake.

Now he was presented with the puzzle of the door in front of him. A padlock chain was draped in an X shape around the door, and a keypad was displayed next to a scanner. He frowned.

He knew the entry code, but he had forgotten the key! The hand scanner was easy, though. As a high ranking member of the council, his info was automatically inputted as someone with allowed access. 

Ink took care of the scanner as well as the passcode with ease, (He had written down the sequence on his scarf discreetly while Undyne had been typing it in the day he toured), before moving on to the heavy lock. Now how was he supposed to deal with this?? Of course he was bound to leave _something_ behind, and Ink cursed himself for not thinking of the key dangling in Undyne’s pockets.

Eh, no matter. Plan B!

Ink raised a hand, and black ink began to swirl and manifest into his palm, encasing his hand in what looked like tar. Slowly, the black built on itself , growing higher and higher before rounding out at the end. Spikes shot up from all over summoned weapon.

Ink swung his arm down, grinning wickedly, before using his conjured mace to smash the lock and chains into pieces, little bits of metal exploding from the impact. The now damaged chains clattered to the floor, and Ink smiled, testing the door handle. Its rusty hinges croaked as it was pushed a quarter of the way. The ink quickly melted away and receded, soaking back into his forearms 

Yay, it was open!

He stepped inside, and immediately smiled. His reward for so many nights of planning was finally in front of him. He wanted to squeal in happiness!!

Shutting the door behind him and bolting it shut, he quickly crossed the room. Outside, he could hear the frightened cries of those who heard the ridiculous amount of noise and were coming to investigate. He could hear Alchemy’s authoritarian voice echoing outside. But they wouldn’t get in. With a snap of his fingers the door was wrapped in purple ink, creating even more support to keep the doors shut, like a goopy spiderweb.

Ink’s breath hitched, and he put his fingers to the glass, whispering gently to himself.

“Oh, Error… What have they done to you...”

There he was, his limp body lying on the floor, as if he were dead. A gas mask was strapped over his nose and mouth and his eyes were closed. His bones were faded, and the glitches that usually swarmed his body were unnaturally slow and weak. Some of his vertebrae, Ink could see, were cracked as well, and the bone around his eye sockets were thin. No one would have ever suspected that here in front of him was the most lethal murderer known to monster and man kind.

He almost looked… smaller. Like an innocent little child, just trying to rest. The bags under his eyes were incredible, and even though he was completely motionless, he still looked pained. His body was contorted in a way to show that he had struggled a bit.

Ink stared at him, both hands and face pressed up against the glass. There was not water this time - thank heavens - but Error was still on heavy drugs. One wrong move and he’d crumble to dust. 

A negative emotion swirled up inside of him, but he couldn’t find a way to let it out. Like his body was pleading him to be furious, to be angry. And seeing the bulky collar around his neck, along with cuffs on his arms only intensified this feeling. They were treating him like a _dog_ they _tortured_ him they _picked him apart and left to rot while he sobbed._

His mind was _reeling_ and telling him to _**kill every fucker in the timeline for letting this happen.**_

...

But he felt no anger at all.

He was out of the red vial. He had used it all up. The thoughts swirling in his mind had no effect on his levels of fury. They funneled out instead through his blue vial, and he felt only pain.

“It’s going to be okay now…” Ink cooed from behind the glass, trying to keep his tears from spilling. He had brought the blue vial in order to appear more sad when reacting towards the deaths of the others. But now it was causing him some... unwanted effects. 

With one quick movement of Ink’s hand, the small dashboard that controlled the movement of the cell door was sliced in half, sparks and wires leaping out from beside him. Ink didn’t pay half a mind to the wreckage - only the result.

Slowly, the glass door made a grand arc as it opened, and Ink dropped to his knees. Error was laying right next to the door, so Ink didn’t have to reach that far to touch him.

There were noises out in the hall but those weren’t important.

His little Error was so damaged. Ink stroked his skull and felt the tears threaten to fall once more.

“We’re gonna go home, okay? We’re going to go home and you’ll be all better…” he quickly removed the gas mask from Error’s face. But the other restraints would have to be dealt with first.

Humming a soft tune, Ink began trying to pick all the cuffs and chains apart, jostling Error’s body around. And then he felt a small twitch.

The creator paused his work and stilled, watching carefully.

Error’s brow scrunched for a quick second, and a soft and strangled noise just barely crawled out of his throat.

Both of Ink’s eyes turned to stars, and he scooted as close as he could, resting a hand on Error’s cheek.

He was waking up! He was okay!!!

—————~*~*~—————

When he opened his eyes, he could barely see anything.

It was blurry, and he felt like he had awoken from a very bad dream.

Hands were on his body. Again. He wanted to sleep. She said he would sleep! He let out a pitiful whine as he remembered. He didn’t want to wake up anymore!

He didn’t want to… wake up…

…

The hands were gentle, but they weren’t fluffy. Someone had fluffy hands… oh yeah. The cat lady. But this wasn’t the cat lady. Their hands were hard. Cold.

How did he get here?

…

...they were petting him. The hands were gently scratching him under his chin and on his shoulder blade, and he gently hummed in satisfaction. He liked it. They seemed to know which spots were his favorite.

Their voice spoke but he didn’t catch a word of it. His mind was too preoccupied with the strenuous task of being alive to focus on that. 

But Error was curious. He wanted to know who it was.

Gently, ever so gently, moving his eyes, he trained them on a figure. All he saw was a blur of white. Disappointing. But he saw, in the center of the white blob, two colorful orbs. He wrinkled his nose at them.

Suddenly they vanished, and were replaced with two new colors. And then more colors, and more colors. Colors flashing by across his face. If Error had the energy to smile, he would have. It was almost like a ra-

 

…

…

Like a

Like a

…

Rainbow

Rainbow

RAINBOW

**RAINBOW**

 

It suddenly hit him. As if someone had struck him with an anvil and cracked his skull open. His eyes went blank and glitched chokes hissed through his teeth

Every memory smashed into his mind at once and his head split in agony.

Ink had left him.

Left him to rot.

Left him to _die._

Stared at him, bemused, as he was forced into his knees, as he was muzzled and shocked like a wild animal, as his bones were dissolving, as they drowned him, injected him, tranquilized him, experimented on him, tried to kill him-

Ink had left him to die.

After promising that he would never abandon him. After promising that they would get through everything together. After telling him:

**_“I love you.”_ **

…

…

…

And now here he was, smiling down at him like a worried mother, and stroking his cheek. Ink held him gently, like a fragile piece of china.

“It’s okay…” he was saying. “It’s all going to be okay… I’m right here…”

He was talking almost as if he had just rescued him. Did Ink decide that he was bored, and wanted to pick up his favorite T͞͏͖̼̫̤ͅǪ̸̫̝͍̠̪̪̗̪Y̮͚̭̥̫̘̩̗̳͢again?

Because that’s all he was in Ink’s eyes, right?

...

...!

His whole body began to vibrate and twitch against his will, startling him. It burned. There was a fire pumping through his veins as every bone seemed to ignite and bleed. He tried to scream, call for Ink, call for anyone because it hurt! He was too weak his body couldn’t take-

 

Those thoughts abruptly ended and were forgotten. His fears had suddenly vanished. His mind became numb, while the rest of his form convulsed. Something was dripping down his cheeks, hot and sad, but thicker than tears.

And something new surfaced.

Error looked at Ink, and his stupid grin he wore while cradling Error like a doll. A switch was suddenly flipped in his mind.

He saw the rainbows he had been dreaming about in Ink’s eyes. They really were every color on the color wheel. But they offered no comfort.

All they offered was a painful

 

boiling

 

uncontrollable 

 

insatiable

 

 

R̴̨̦̥̲̠͉̩͎̥̮̲̰̊ͬ̓̔̆̏̍̿ͭͥ͛ͧͣͯ͂̀ ̷̧͍̳͚̟͈̺̳̦̫̼͚̫̣̩͙̤̠̍̍ͨ̊ͣ̀͞A̛̗͇̭̩͔̯̣̬͕̎̇̄ͨ̋ͅ ͤͭ͆̑͒̄͊̀ͫ̔͟҉̧̘͓͍̞̺̞̘͉̥̰̙̣̩͕̩͝G̸̮͎̞̣͉͍̣̺͉̻̼̝̯̼̙̘͓̬͇̋̊ͣ̒͗͢͝͠ ̢̉̿ͨ͆̃̅̃̽ͮ̊̚҉̞͕͇̬͎̲͓̜̖̹̩̻̩̟͙̖͙͕͜E̴̟͚̝̞̮͖͉͖͙͔̠̟̼̬̰̣ͭ̃͂̊̍͑ͨͨ̔̒͌͂̍́͘͝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re going out with a bang folks. Next chapter isn’t gonna be their happy ending, I can tell you that. I’m not even a third done with this whole story, rest assured ;)
> 
> Lemme know if I have any grammar mistakes or smthin lol
> 
> Also funny story. I accidentally knocked my phone into the toilet from the bathroom counter and he was w e t. I almost lost him but he pulled through. Kudos to my phone, for surviving and therefore not deleting all of my chapter ten I had been working on. He still smells like toilet though >:(


	11. Gloves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error w a k e s u p
> 
> But also a cute fluffy flashback :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! It’s mini chapter time! Because I just want a pre-shit-hits-the-fan chapter to get y’all prepped for the sheer angst/badassery of the next couple of chaps uwu

When Error met Ink’s eyes, the artist immediately began to feel the liquid fear take its course through his bones. Something was wrong. _Very_ wrong. He had come to save Error from this god awful place! The artist had been planning to smuggle him out of the laboratory for so long, spending days and days on end creating a scheme to rescue him. 

So why did he look even more miserable? Ink had, a bit shamefully, been expecting something akin to a fairytale knight and princess. Where Error would lock eyes with Ink and just melt into his arms, feeling safe as Ink brought him home to heal. An extravagant fantasy, he knew, but he hoped for something close. It seemed he was way out of the ballpark.

Error’s frail form was trembling violently, and at first Ink wondered if it was a side effect of the medication but he soon saw the truth of the situation. He released his tight hold on Error and swallowed hard.

The Destroyer took heaving breaths as he curled up on himself. He hissed when the tremors increased and looked up to Ink, his facial features spamming beyond control.

His face was blank, yet at the same time so expressive. Anger, pain, fear and rage burned across his features as his eyes welled up with tears. Ink immediately went to wipe them away as they dripped down his cheeks, but stopped when he noticed the texture.

He looked at his phalanges. A thick liquid as black as the void coated the tip of his forefinger. Error’s tears were blue, not black! While keeping his eye on Error, he quickly swiped a finger across his tongue, immediately recoiling and coughing. Ink recognized the disgusting taste and connected it to an emotion.

It was the same substance that leaked from Killer’s eye sockets. That Chara melted into after the end of a genocide route. That had consumed Nightmare. It was raw, liquid hate.

As soon as he put all the pieces together in his head, it was too late. Error suddenly opened his mouth and shrieked bloody murder, screaming in both pain and immense rage. It rattled Ink to his core. With one quick movement, Error’s hands latched onto Ink’s clothed ribs, causing the artist to give a small cry of discomfort. 

The Destroyer squeezed his hands tight around the bones, and with more force than Ink thought was physically possible for Error to currently have, he was tossed violently across the room, his back hitting the hard metal of the door. Error had ripped Ink away from him and sent him flying as if he was as light as air, and he crashed hard. The artist winced and rubbed his spine, but turned his eyes to the being that threw him. He shakily got to his feet, sweating profusely as he watched Error. The glitch had tumbled out of the cell and onto the floor of the lab, still jolting and vibrating like his finger was stuck in an electric socket. Despite his twitching, he slowly clambered to his feet, paying no mind to Ink, swaying where he stood.

The artist felt like he was going to be sick. Black liquid was dripping onto the floor in puddles, as it poured from his eyes, his mouth, and the space between his bones. Every joint was leaking with the vile liquid, and Error shrieked louder, dropping to his knees and clutching his skull in his hands. With every exhale came a growl out of Error’s mouth.

Ink turned around and pounded on the door frantically. Could his friends hear him? He tried to call for them. But he heard no response. Error continued to screech and claw at himself as the ocean of hate dripping from every pore in his body grew larger every second.

And then he heard it. A sound that had him rooted to the ground. An awful, disgusting popping noise that usually was only heard with the cracking of knuckles. It started rippling across the Destroyer’s spine, and he became even louder, if that was possible. Cracks began to appear in the window adjacent to the cell.

“Error…” Ink whispered breathlessly, eyelights shaking in his sockets as he watched the skeleton before him suffer. He wanted to help, but he just didn’t know how, and his back was still sore from being smacked against the wall. He took a few steps forward, his mind fighting the urge to both run as far as he could before everything went to hell or coddle the whimpering Destroyer and shush him until he was better again. The mental argument resulted in Ink staying a decent distance away, while trying to speak with Error, barely able to form the words he wanted.

“H-Hey… Error… it’s me, don’t… can you hear me…? It’s o-okay… we’re going to go home together… please...”

Had Error heard that, he might have calmed significantly. With all that he had endured in the past month, the glitch would probably be more than happy to take up the offer. 

However, Error didn’t hear him. His mind was shut down. Bones popped, and something inside of him was shifting, but it didn’t faze him. His consciousness was forcefully dragged back under, while another less rational side fought its way to the top. His mind was clouded, and his body seemed to move on its own accord. The only thing going through his mind were memories of the last month playing on repeat, over and over again.

It built up to an insufferable point, the tension rising higher and higher until it reached a peak, and Error could hear a thousand voices screaming along with his own as his bones continued to crack. It was like he was being ripped from existence - there were so many glitches around his body it hurt to even move. Yet he shook and convulsed nonetheless.

He felt a new weight on his chest, and began to scratch at it, raking his fingers down his ribcage like a xylophone. Red vapor poured from his mouth and snaked between his ribs as he shrieked.

Ink couldn’t take it anymore. Holding down a surge of overwhelming emotions, he tried to approach him. One step forward. And another.

“E...rror…?”

The screaming stopped abruptly, but the tremors never stilled. Slowly, the glitch got to his feet, stumbling like a drunkard as he stood. His bones were blacker than they usually were, and the red gradient on his rib cage had faded into only darkness. Something else was fixed to his rib cage as well, and at first Ink couldn’t tell what it was but then realization kicked in and _holy shit you’ve got to be kidding me-_

Error’s eyes were bright red. An eerie contrast in the dimly lit room. They shone toxically bright, like his sockets were filled with liquid glow stick, and the absence of his pupils was apparent too. Slowly, he grinned. The grin grew wider and wider to where it shouldn’t have been physically possible to stretch the ends of his mouth. 

He took a step closer, and his jaw fell open. Five snake-like tongues the color of radioactive rubies slithered between his teeth and hung in the air, curling and twisting like they had minds of their own. Ink’s hands began to shake. Despite the other emotional vials on his sash, he was only feeling the hard effects of one - terror.

This… _thing_ in front of him looked like Error - or it was Error, but his appearance had been warped into something monstrous, shifting his typical color scheme and behavior. While Ink was figuring out how in the holy hell he was supposed to reason with Error, the glitching horror tilted his head slightly, watching Ink with amusement. But Ink could see a pain behind his eyes, blacked out with rage.

Error grinned, black liquid dripping from between his teeth.

And then with a hurricane of glitches, he vanished, leaving a screeching, metallic laugh behind.

Ink was left alone, eyes wide and cheeks wet with tears.

—————~*~*~—————

All at once, Dream’s vision was overwhelmed with darkness.

The Protector of Light was suddenly blind, and his scepter dropped to the floor in shock. He opened his sockets wide and looked for any trace of light, but surrounding him was only black. It was like a thick mist, and after double checking that his eyes were indeed open, he tried to call out for his companions in the watch. He could still hear their voices casually speaking on the other end, like they hadn’t noticed the sudden blackout.

“Alchemy?? Undyne???” He cried. He waved his arms around in front of him, squinting. Dream then abruptly tripped over a solid object on the ground and collapsed into someone’s arms.

“Dream?? What’s going on? You look pained,” came the voice of Alchemy. Righting himself, Dream stood back up, but still kept a hand on Alchemy’s arm to avoid anymore stumbling.

Panicked, Dream’s eyes darted around. Not only were the lights off, but he couldn’t see the aura of the other people in the room! That… that wasn’t supposed to be possible! Everywhere he looked, it was only a stunningly sharp darkness, blacker than anything he had ever seen.

“Turn the lights on…” Dream muttered, tugging on Alchemy’s cloak. “It’s too dark I can’t see! Turn the lights back on!”

There was a silence from the receiving end of the conversation, and Dream grew worried, tugging again like a child. Alchemy’s next words were slow and measured.

“Dream… all the lights are on.”

Silence, and then Dream felt fingers on his chin as his head was tilted upwards. Alchemy inhaled. “Your pupils are completely blown. Can you see me?”

“No. I can’t see anything... I can’t see anything I’m blind oh my stars I’m blind!!!” He began to breathe quickly and tear up, unsure of what was going on.

“Calm down, calm down. We’ll fix this…” Dream looked in the general direction of the speaker, hoping that it was close to the right direction. He began to feel faint, and started to sway.

“I’m… going to… be sick…”

Demonic laughter was heard down the hall along with the screech of metal on metal, and Dream passed out in Alchemy’s arms. 

 

 

 

 

_“Error!”_

_The Destroyer rolled his eyes at the interruption. He turned his head slightly, careful not to jostle his strings too much. They were bridged from his eyes, wound around his fingers, and weaved into an intricate pattern, held up by a pair of knitting needles._

_Ink peered over his shoulder, eyes gleaming. “Whatcha making?”_

_“...a hat.”_

_“For yourself?”_

_“I don’t have anyone else to make things for.”_

_The Guardian pouted. “Well what about me?”_

_“You don’t count.”_

_“What? Why not!?”_

_“You can make anything you want with that stupid brush of yours. You don’t need my help.”_

_Ink took a seat on the opposite side of the couch where Error was. The glitch glanced over at Ink briefly before turning back to his work. “Why the change from your usual outfit?” He remarked._

_Ink shrugged and made himself comfortable on the sofa. He wore a floral-print button up and khaki shorts. Sunglasses sat on top of his skull, in place with the help of tape._

_“Blue and Dream invited me to a pool party in Undersail. It’s in a few hours, so I thought I’d stop by until then.”_

_“Mhm.”_

_The two lapsed into silence, the only sound being the clicking of Error’s needles. Ink fiddled with a shark tooth necklace around his neck, before holding it up for Error to see._

_“What do you think about my necklace? I think it fits the beach aesthetic perfectly.”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_“Please?”_

_Error groaned and begrudgingly looked Ink’s way. The necklace was, in his opinion, boring, and he said so. Ink frowned._

_“Yeah you’re right. To cliché.” The garment vanished, and Ink sighed. He watched, mesmerized, as Error deftly wove his strings into beautiful patterns, his fingers moving with incredible precision and speed. Ink could have honestly watched him work all day._

_Error on the other hand, was already aggravated with Ink’s continual existence and hunched over his work, gritting his teeth._

_“Go away.”_

_“No.” Ink smirked. “This is revenge for the ugly crack in my femur I got when we duked it out for Birdswap.” The artist threw a few fake punches in the air and collapsed onto his chest, swinging his legs in the air and propping his chin up on a hand._

_“Watching you work is so… relaxing…”_

_Error tensed a little at that and his fingers froze, before grumbling and working faster. A blush lit up his cheeks. “You deserve every damn injury I gave you. Now scat. You’ve made me miserable enough with your voice.”_

_Ink rolled onto his back and stared at him, grinning happily upside down. For some reason, it seemed that Ink just couldn’t sit still. “Aw, c’mon. You know you like my company. Both of us are cripplingly lonely, you even more so! You spend all your time in that little nest of strings, like a spider. I’m glad I even convinced you to get an actually piece of furniture.” He tapped the couch and hummed happily._

_Error had scooted as far away from the Creator as he could, pressing his body up against the armrest. “What part about scat don’t you understand??”_

_“I am well aware of it’s meaning, Error. As I told you, I’m taking my vengeance.”_

_“Well, vengeance took. Bye.”_

_Ink sighed. “Alright, I get it.” He sat up but made no movements to indicate he was actually going to leave. After ten more seconds of silence, Error growled and angrily bit the strings connecting the needles to his eyes. He couldn’t concentrate with the rainbow bastard bugging him like a toddler._

_Error scowled at him, eyes filling up with glitches. Ink took the hint and stood up._

_“Alright alright, I’ll see myself out… But before I go, I just wanna say that that looks rather small for a hat.”_

_“...that’s none of your business. I haven’t finished anyways.”_

_Ink hummed as an answer and rocked on his heels. Error put his tiny creation to the side._

_“Well?” He asked. “You gonna stand there like a fucking loser or are you gonna do the sensible thing and leave before I impale you?”_

_Ink didn’t look threatened at all, and fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “Scary. You’ve got me shaking in my boots, Ruru!”_

_Error visibly seized up and the teasing nickname, and Ink was worried he might crash. But he pulled himself together quickly. “I told… you not to… call me that… fucking hate it…”_

_“And that’s exactly why I say it! You’re not good at picking up on these things, are you?”_

_Before Error could give a retort, Ink seated himself back on the couch again. “Don’t answer. I don’t want to bicker for the next hour, no matter how hilarious it is.”_

_He flashed a smile and crossed his legs. “I actually came here for a reason. True, one of them was to spend time with your grouchy self and take my “revenge”, but the other one was… I have something for you.”_

_Error became curious and raised his head to look at Ink. “For… for me??”_

_Nodding, the artist reached through a portal and pulled out a small box, with a tiny bow. A present._

_“Happy birthday, Error!” Ink beamed, throwing confetti into the air with his other hand._

_Error took the gift and stared at it, dumbfounded, not even noticing a bit of colored paper dotting the top of his skull._

_“It… it was my birthday?”_

_For a moment Ink looked like he had just been lethally injured. He asked slowly. “You… do know when your birthday is, right?”_

_Error scratched his neck. “Eh… I forget sometimes. I don’t have the voices always talking to me that much anymore, and sometimes days feel like minutes where I am. I dunno, I just-“_

_He stopped. Ink was giving him the most heartbreaking look, his eyes shifting to a teardrop and a spiral. “I... am I the only one that celebrates your birthday?”_

_“It would seem that I way. I myself don’t even care all that much.”_

_With a scooch closer, Ink gave him a determined look. “Well I refuse to let that happen. That’s utterly unacceptable! Open the gift!”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Open it!”_

_“Alright!”_

_“Now!”_

_“Shut the fuck up I’m unwrapping, you devil!”_

_Error opened the gift, grumbling and cursing Ink’s name while he did. Inside the box was a pair of gloves, made of a soft purple fabric. He blinked at them in confusion._

_Ink scooted closer. “It’s for you.”_

_“I’ve got that but… why? What for? I don’t get cold.”_

_Ink didn’t answer and instead, his giddy grin faded away into a much smaller smile, and the mood of the room shifted. “It’s to help you… practice…”_

_The Destroyer blinked. “Practice??”_

_“Just put them on.”_

_And Error did. They were a perfect fit over his fingers. He frowned. “I can’t use my strings with these on. I swear if this is a battle tactic that you and your demented council friends came up with then-“_

_He was cut off when Ink reached his hand out and gently intertwined their fingers together. The Guardian took a deep breath before meeting the glitch’s eyes, smiling bashfully._

_Error went rigid, not reciprocating the gesture. From Ink’s perspective, he looked like he was in a life or death situation, and didn’t know how to escape. Glitches swarmed his body and a few choked noises of surprise surfaced, sounding like a computer shutdown noise._

_Regardless of whether Error was listening, Ink started to talk. “I’ve noticed how when we sit to watch TV together, you keep clasping and unclasping your hands, mumbling to yourself. And remember that other time, when our pinky fingers touched? Instead of pulling away like I expected you to, you squeezed your eyes shut and slowly wrapped your finger around mine. Well, I hate to break it to you, but I hadn’t been asleep when you did that.”_

_“I-I-I’ve never-r done-ne anything l-l-like that...” Error was practically steaming, his face an electric shade of blue. His speech was so glitched it was difficult to make out clearly._

_Ink gave his gloved hand a small squeeze, testing the waters. When Error still didn’t let go, he smiled. “I know you’ve been working on physical contact lately, so I thought I’d be a good friend and help you out! See? You’re hardly glitching! This is wonderful training of you’d even want to do something like this in the future.”_

_The rebooting glitch was slowly returning to his senses. “Like what?” He snapped, unable to meet Ink’s eyes. “Holding your hand?”_

_“Hopefully!”_

_Error gulped and kept his hand frozen, his fingers stretched wide. Ink started to become worried he was pushing him too far and started to loosen his grip._

_Feeling the grip leaving him, Error immediately tightened his hand as well._

_“Wait.”_

_He was clearly sweating. “Can we… stay like this just a bit longer? The uh… the mittens work well.”_

_“Aw, really? And here I thought you didn’t want my company.”_

_“Well… I changed my mind. You’re helping me to, uh, one day beat you up, because once I’m comfortable touching you I’ll be comfortable knocking your lights out too. With my fist.”_

_The excuses made the artist laugh. He subconsciously rubbed his thumb in circles on Error’s hand. “Uh-Huh. Sure, pal. You sure it’s not because you like the affection?”_

_“...no.” Error’s behavior said otherwise._

_Ink couldn’t help himself. He giggled and slipped his sunglasses off his head, setting them above Error’s nasal cavity. The Destroyer jerked back in surprise but Ink was to quick and pushed them onto his nose._

_“Now my eyesight is even worse. Thanks, squid.” By the time Error had taken them off, he noticed that his other hand was now empty of an embrace. Ink was walking away._

_“I’ll see you soon, Error!” Ink called, summoning his paintbrush from thin air and creating a multicolored portal on the anti-void’s floor._

_“What are you gonna do now?” Error growled. Now that he wasn’t overwhelmed with the intimacy, his aggression had returned. “Skip over to your group of besties and tell them that Error can be pacified with mittens? Maybe that he’s growing docile or something? Ha! As if. I’ll destroy five AU’s tomorrow, just watch!”_

_Ink cocked a brow at him. “First off, you don’t tell your enemy your plans. Second, the council doesn’t know I’m here.”_

_A tense moment passed. “They don’t even know that you granted me access into the anti-void,” Ink continued._

_“Yeah, only because-“_

_“Shut up, let me finish. If they knew I had access to this place they wouldn’t rest until I showed them the way here. According to them, and all my other friends inside and outside of the council, I only ever see you when we battle to the death. So let’s keep this meeting on the down low, yea?”_

_Error nodded dumbly as the creator gave him a wink and hopped through the portal._

_Soon it was just the glitch sitting alone, with a new pair of sunglasses and mittens. His crazed brain slowly computed everything that just happened and he smacked himself upside the head, screaming into the gloves, his cheeks burning blue._

_Later that night Ink found a stuffed version of himself sitting on his bed, wearing a very tiny blue hat and sunglasses. A crudely handwritten note was attached:_

I needpractice.

_The Guardian smiled._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use this fluff to beg your forgiveness for the overwhelming amounts of edge.  
> \\( ówò)/
> 
> (Mega edge next chap tho :3)
> 
> Also author needs to keep their FAT MOUTH SHUT IN THE COMMENTS BEFORE THEY JUST GIVE ALL THE SECRETS AWAY


	12. Rampage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error throws a temper tantrum and the plot finally starts to kick off aaaaaaaaaaaa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the edgies i love you all
> 
> Also forgive the awful grammar. I've re-read it a whole bunch but I'm just really bad with verb tenses. Need to get better with those. If you see anything incorrect please point it out so I can fix it. I dont want grammar mistakes to be a turn off for my story lmao
> 
> Also do me a favor while u read - think of it like a horror movie. Horror movie music, lighting, camera angles etc. It’ll make it better in ur head
> 
> Also WA RN ING: there are some nooses in this chapter. No body hangs themselves on purpose; no one commits suicide. BUt it is used to kill some people. It's all off screen, as in I breifly mention that it happened but if that makes u uncomfortable dont read or skip over that part or imagine something else okay? ily all and respect u very much ^-^

“ALCHEMY!!”

Said God turned to meet the shrill voice screaming his name. The unconscious keeper of dreams was limp in his arms, taking shuddering breaths. A frightened expression graced Alchemy’s face, mixing in with his usual stoic appearance. However, relief crossed into his features as well when he saw Ink running down the hall.

“Ink, thank goodness. I need your help. Dream-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence - Ink came barreling at him, tripping over his feet and collapsed into Alchemy’s midsection. The Creator nearly knocked him over, but Alchemy caught himself just in time, and caught Ink as well.

The artist was not in good shape. He was out of breath, panicked, and struggled to get his words out. The remnants of tears were collected on his chin, shining bright.

“Ink?”

“Give me the key.” He blurted out.

“Key? What key?”

“The key to unlock the emergency shutdown doors please it’s really important please give me the key.” Halfway through his sentence and Ink was already breaking down and sobbing his heart out. Alchemy was in shock.

“I… they’ll be safer if they stay-“

Another round of bone-chilling laughter, and Ink was gone before Alchemy could even finish talking. He ran back where he came and ignored all shouts of protest from the God.

Desperate for answers, the god shifted his grip on Dream and raised a hand. A rune circled on his palm. Ink was suddenly enveloped in a faint purple magic and plucked from the ground. He still attempted to run while bound and punched the air in protest.

“Lemme go lemme go!! I need to save him he’s gonna die! Let me go!” The artist shrieked, wiggling chaotically. Alchemy pulled his hand back towards his chest, pulling the frantic Ink along with him. 

Assessing the Guardian, Alchemy realized his vial of anger was still empty. How strange. He spun Ink like a top to face him, eyes narrowing. “Ink don’t leave me in the dark here. What’s happening? What was that laughter? Who’s going to die? Help me out, dammit, I can’t put all the pieces together myself!! You never tell me _anything_ and leave me to pick up after you!”

“ERROR!” Screeched Ink. “ERROR’S GONE OFF HIS ROCKER AND HE’S GONNA- “

A light down at the end of the hall shut off. And the one next to it. And then the next. And the next. And the next. One after the other, in chronological order, until they were bathed in darkness.

\----------~*~*~----------

Undyne was by herself when the blinding emergency lighting system suddenly fizzed out. She blinked in the darkness, cursing. Her eyesight was shit. Hadn’t she already been through this whole “lights out invasion” song and dance with Nightmare? All she wanted to do was get back on schedule and put the Destroyer down, like originally intended. Why did this need to be so damn complicated?!

A slew of profanity spewed from her mouth as she felt around in the dark. There was still a decent amount of lighting the room; everything in the lab was highlighted in a soft blue. Her chase had led her to one of the office rooms for her employees, and she had been unsuccessfully looking for a sign of Nightmare. But she found none, even though she could have sworn on her life she had heard movement in this room. However, it was like the demon octopus had vanished.

 _What a waste of my time,_ she thought as she kicked something across the floor, taking satisfaction as it rolled and scraped. Briefly, she imagined it to be Ink and smiled, wishing she could kick that fake plastered grin off his face. Seriously, what was _with_ that guy?? Was he like that all the time, or was he in a… _mood_ when she saw him? There was another noise, and the scales on the back of her neck stood up, so she quickly brushed away the stray train of thought. Ink didn’t matter at the moment.

She took a flashlight out of her pocket and flicked it on, sweeping the beam of light all around the room. Nothing. She rolled her eyes. Now she had to go talk with Alchemy about getting the lights switched back on. Then maybe they could finally continue. Without all the complications, maybe. Screw that hairball of an employee who couldn’t help but fall in love with the Murderer of Universes. This was partially her fault!

Why was its Molly’s fault?? ...uh, she didn’t really have a reason. But Undyne detested the way she’d talk about the Destroyer, as if he were a baby. There was a reason he was called “The Destroyer” after all.

She was about to make her way out of the office to find Dream, Ink and the others who had shown up. And then she heard it. Screeching laughter that sounded like a serrated blade against a sheet of aluminum. She dropped the flashlight.

Left, right, up, down. She looked frantically around the room, trying to reign in her heart rate. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, and for a few seconds she was convinced it had coming ringing from her mind. Fuck, that scared her! Well, at least she found Nightmare. She shakily raised her wrist to her lips to speak.

“Alchemy I- “

“I heard it too.” Came the curt response. “That’s not Nightmare. Stand your ground and be on guard. Whatever it is made Dream pass out. Come find us immediately.”

The god of magic said no more. She turned to leave, picking up her flashlight and feeling slightly rattled. Not Nightmare?? Were there _more_ sociopathic monsters in the laboratory?? This isn’t what she agreed to on the terms and conditions!

And then the door shut on her. She was fully enveloped in darkness.

Almost running face-first into the door, Undyne sprinted to find the handle. Once she located it, she jiggled it frantically. It wouldn’t budge. Her body began to break out into a cold sweat.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon! Open!” The door didn’t listen to her pleas. It remained securely fastened. She pounded on the center, hoping someone from the outside would hear her and set her free. Undyne pressed an ear fin to the door. There was no noise from the outside hallway.

She swiftly kicked the barrier in frustration, running her fingers through her greasy crimson hair, her brain calculating a way to escape.

But something interrupted her train of thought. There was breathing. Right behind her, someone stood, growling with every exhale, like a dragon breathing smoke. She could feel its eyes baring a hole in her back.

Undyne felt her stomach drop. Her hand slowly crawled across her body to reach for her blaster. The intruder apparently didn’t seem to have anything better to do than stand there and breathe obnoxiously loud.

After a few beats, she realized whoever was behind her wasn’t going to react until she did. So Undyne took the first move.

She whipped around at high speed, and immediately fired five shots of pure energy, enough power to easily blow through flesh without even slowing down. A design of her own, most effective for the destruction of others.

After her trigger finger came to a rest, a small wisp of vapor trailed from the tip as she held the gun steady, ready to fire again if necessary. She took a few heaving breaths, waiting to see her victim full of holes. Then, the smoke cleared, and she finally got a look at what she was facing.

That was… that _thing_ is… it couldn’t be…

Its bones weren’t even scratched. It took every shot directly to the head and chest yet was completely unscathed. It twitched as it walked forward, like it hardly had any control over its own body. Three tongues wiggled out of its mouth and licked teeth that lined a grin too sharp, and too… _big._ No one’s mouth could have possible stretched as far to the sides of their head as this beast’s smile.

“What are...” she breathed, backed against the door. “Who…”

The creature simply smiled wider and raised its hands, gently clicking its fingers together. It moved closer, like a predator stalking its prey. Undyne’s breath hitched in her throat as she shot another bullet of light. It flung the attack out of the way with one hand like it might have been flicking an annoying fly from its skull. She noticed, with a sinking feeling, the lines going down the sides of its cheeks, the blackened bones, and most importantly, the shock collar around its neck.

Undyne realized who she was dealing with. 

But… that should have been impossible, he couldn’t be…

His eyes widened in joy, burning red with a crazed bloodlust. She could already see him drooling from the mouth.

The Swapfell monster’s mind was spinning with ideas on how to escape, to call someone to her aid. But everything she procured was useless. The creature - no, _Error,_ would catch her. She was most certainly not stupid - she, better than anyone, could tell when a situation was growing hopeless.

She struggled when fingers were squeezed around her throat, and when his maw opened to reveal two separate sets of teeth, but knew the fate awaiting her. There was no way out.

She hung her head and began to sob, praying for death to be swift. But it wasn’t.

\----------~*~*~----------

A few shots from a blaster filled the silence, barely heard, and then it was quiet. But promptly afterwards, the yelling and screaming begin. Noises like the demented laughter he had heard echoed in Alchemy’s skull. Destructive crashes sounded alongside the twisted howls of joy.

Ink had stopped struggling in Alch’s grasp. He simply stared down the corridor where the noise was coming from, with a blank stare. Eyes which were so expressive before now only carried white orbs.

Alchemy’s face went pale. Well, it was already pale, seeing as he was a skeleton, but now it was the chalky and dead-looking kind of pale. He released the holding spell he had on Ink and stared into the darkness, dread washing over him like a tidal wave.

He started mumbling absentmindedly to himself, unblinking. “Nightmare was only… a distraction, while the real chaos went on while we were busy with the damage he caused. Now we will have even more blood on our hands…”

Ink opened his mouth and then closed it. In a way, he was right, but Ink felt like correcting him would be a horrible idea. Alchemy clutched Dream tightly and started in a brisk walk.

“If that was Undyne then we need to save her.” The walk turned into a run. He was stopped in his tracks by both Ink and ink. Ropes of purple and green shot from the floor and wrapped around Alch’s arms and midsection.

“No.” The artist said, his eyes half lidded. The vials on his sash flashed like broken Christmas lights, blinking on and off, a hurricane of emotions flooding his system to the point where he was nothing but numb. He pulled the goopy ropes around Alchemy tighter with a clench of his fist.

Now, Alchemy could have easily escaped. If he wanted to, he could have cut through the bonds without even so much as a movement of his finger. But he was curious, and severely worried about Ink. So, he momentarily played along.

“Ink… what’s wrong with you? Let me go this instant!”

Ink languidly shrugged, as if everyone around him wasn’t running the risk of immanent doom. “She’s already dead. Don’t bother.”

“...I- “

“Shut up and be useful for once. She deserved it. Everything Error’s doing she deserved. You all deserve it.”

Alchemy was silent, his eyes incredulously wide. Dream was starting to whimper and heave in his arms, grasping at the suit he wore. Ink was not in his right mind. They would have to fix his emotions once this stupid ordeal was over, maybe even get him new ones.

“Let me go. There are people that need saving- “

“Let him kill them.”

“...” That was the final straw. The inky ropes disintegrated into a pile of colorful slime at his feet. Reaper Gaster’s eyes burned dangerously.

“I don’t have time to deal with your genocidal tendencies when you’re an unstable, blank-slate of a being. I have a job to do, and you know just as well as I do that these people shouldn’t run the risk of death because of the Destroyer’s temper tantrum.”

He turned and left Ink alone in the hallway, chasing after the noise. The second he left, Ink burst into tears. 

His gentle sobs echoed in the hallways, bouncing off the metal, and reached the ears of a creature hiding inside the ventilation system. It started to crawl faster towards its goal.

But the guards didn’t hear the tip-tap of tiny limbs in the walls. Everyone strained their hearing for a different threat. Members of the most elite team of soldiers and noble warriors had already made their way down to Error’s lab the second they heard that the first group wasn’t enough to deal with the S.O.S. 

They carried rifles with flashlights attached to the tops, walking without a sound on the balls of their feet. Most were in armor similar to modern day SWAT teams, but a few stood out. An Alphys from a miscellaneous swap universe wore metal battle armor and wielded a double-headed mace. Next to her, a stark contrast in height, was a Papyrus from a military-based deviant of Underfell, his face cold and cruel. But like any Papy, he had a heart of gold, even though this one kept it hidden under the sleek black overcoat of an army general, decked with badges of rank.

The squadron went down the corridor, every stray noise call for alarm. Alphys was the first to speak. 

“So… Error or Nightmare? I’ve lost track of what’s going on here.”

“I don’t know, but I don’t care.” Replied the Papyrus with a calloused tone. “Follow the demonic laughter. If it’s Nightmare we’re up against, we just beat the shit out of him. For Error, we also beat the shit out of him, but it’s easier since the fucking idiot’s been reduced to a whiny infant on those drugs. They want him dead anyways, from what I’ve picked up.”

“Uh Huh.”

“Besides, the building’s teleport proof. We corner him and then drop a pebble on his head. Voila, he’s done for, and I’m the hero.”

The Alphys looked at him for a few moments, before rolling her good eye. “All you’re gonna be is an egotistical bastard.”

He kept talking, laying out facts and strategies he was formulating in his head. The rest of the warriors in the pack listened to him ramble attentively, taking comfort in the reassurances of their victory. “Here’s the thing - the attacker can’t get into all the lockdown rooms the employees are in, because they can’t teleport. So, we wait for them to stumble out. With our weaponry plus natural combat skill, we will not be paralleled in battle. But if we are desperate, we could always call for backup, although I highly doubt that will be necessary.”

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement, and the group continued to search, walking down corridors and testing each door to see if it was open. Most rooms were inaccessible, courtesy of the heavy metal barricades, made of some of the toughest material to date. Employees who were caught unawares were cowering inside, hiding from the unknown demon roaming the hallways.

They passed a few other search teams and exchanged information about the situation, before continuing the hunt. The orders had come directly from Alchemy to “attack the threat.” That was all the information given. The Magigod was usually more detailed than that, so they were all slightly concerned.

A noise down the hall caught their attention. The Papyrus raised his hand and the rest of the soldiers behind him came to an abrupt stop. With a wave to the left, the group changed their course to follow the sound, their weapons at the ready.

No one dared to speak as they approached an empty doorway. Inside, they could see nothing but darkness. They lined up, pressing their backs against the wall, hoping whoever was inside hadn’t noticed them yet.

Grunts and growls could be heard from the inside, laced with eerie distorted giggles. 

Papyrus grimaced. Bingo. They had him cornered. This was easier than he had anticipated.

He lifted his fingers, and all weapons were raised. He silently counted down, summoning a bone shaped dagger into his hands, Alphys right behind him.

3 fingers.

2 fingers.

1 finger. And…

“FREEZE!” The squadron jumped into position, three guards kneeling in front of the doorway, and another three aiming their guns over the others’ heads. “SHOW YOURSELF! NOW!”

The beams of light from the top of their rifles swept the room, illuminating a terrible sight, that scared even the bravest. Granules of dust littered the floor in piles, and discarded lab wear was strewn next to the heaps of gray. The room was a train wreck – metal machinery was bent in ways it shouldn’t have been bent, and shreds of paper were scattered like confetti. Their flashlights scanned the room for any signs of movement, but they found none. It looked empty. Papyrus’ sharp grin twisted into a frown. 

“Come out, Destroyer.” Someone growled. They advanced about a foot through the doorway, squinting in the darkness. It was unnaturally silent; the laughter that once rang throughout the halls was now absent, only sending more dread through their bones.

And then someone trained their light upwards and yelped. Everyone immediately followed suit and held their breath, dumbstruck.

Strings were everywhere. Red strings were spider-webbed in every part of the ceiling, knotting into intricate designs and concentrating heavily in the corners. They wrapped around the poles where light bulbs now on the floor used to hang, like a nest. But that wasn’t the worst part. In several spots, buried within the threads, was something reflective, shining bright against the pointed lights. At first, Papyrus was unsure of what they were, but then his eyes widened when he saw red nooses dangling from the ceiling as well. The souls of his victims were still beating out of body, completely bound in red.

All the guns were focused on the ceiling, watching out for any sign of movement. Alphys began to look more and more unsure of herself every minute, the realization that a metal weapon might not be able to do justice on this creature.

“God, look at this…” Papyrus whispered in awe, “If I had any doubt in my mind before this, it’s officially been dispelled. The Destroyer really is an abomination.”

A string jerked, and a few more twitched. Every gun cocked at once, and they further advanced into the room, ignoring the thick layers of dust they could feel seeping into the grooves of their shoes. Papyrus readied his own weapons, as did Alphys.

“We know you’re there,” Papyrus snarled, his voice dangerously low. “Come out. Maybe we’ll even let you choose where you want to get a bullet hole in your skull.” They searched the web of strings intently with their eyes, but the resident was lost in the darkness. 

Papyrus tried to calm himself. The Destroyer was supposed to be horrendously weak, anyways. Only hours before had they pumped him full of sedatives and tranquilizers to put him down. The fight should be rather simple. He repeated this to himself, refusing to take note of the souls on display.

There was silence from above. A few more strings were pulled, and then they saw it. A shadow moving above, crawling across the threads like a spider. A few took shots out of fear, but each bullet missed. Papyrus hissed at them and they lowered their guns.

He spoke in the general direction he believed Error to be in. “On the count of three, if you don’t come down, we _will_ fire.” There was no response, except the faintest little giggle. Alphys bared her teeth in rage and gripped her mace tightly.

The Underfell monster raised his hands, just as he had done before coming in.

“One.” The guns aimed.

“Two.” All the beams of light were focused on a certain corner of the room, where the Destroyer hid, illuminating it like a spotlight.

Papyrus opened his mouth, to give the final, issuing command.

“Thr- “

The door slammed shut, trapping them in the room. A cacophonous screech reached his ears as he was knocked onto the floor by his companions and was offered no reprieve before he could feel his arms, legs and torso wound in strings and hoisted off the floor, his mind reeling. He didn’t even have time to yell before his radius was quickly and cleanly broken. Shots from those who still had a handle on their guns briefly lit up the room, and he realized that he was at least eight feet in the air and climbing higher as he was pulled into the entanglement of threads.

He tried to focus his mind as it blurred through pain, and he watched all the others being yanked from the ground and into the air, screaming for dear life. From up there, he could see the puppet master. Or rather, the two, bright red eyes widened with joy as they plucked everyone off the ground one by one, smiling as they were dragged across the floor.

Two orbs of red light turned to him. But then another almond shaped orb opened above the one on the left. And then the same for the right. Neon red vapor trailed in between his teeth as a fifth settled into place on the Destroyer’s forehead, and a ripple of blinks passed across his face, from left to right.

All five eyes looked in different directions, but two were focused on Papyrus. Once all his teammates were in the air, struggling and screaming, the lights fizzed on and off, The Destroyer disappeared again, and they were dropped with nooses around their necks. But their feet never hit the floor, and more dust was added to the collection on the ground.

\----------~*~*~----------

Alchemy couldn’t find Undyne. 

No dust, no lab coat. Not even her glasses. She had gone into office 7, hadn’t she? That’s where the audible struggle was heard. Or so he thought. Maybe he was mistaken. It was hard to think with all the yelling.

Laughter echoed throughout the whole establishment. He shut his eyes tight as he swayed in place, trying to block out the noise. He wanted to help, but every time he got there it was too late. Every time he’d try to follow their pleas for aid, he would only be met with dusty clothes instead, and the attacker would vanish. The hallways were beginning to smell of pungent dust. Dream was growing restless in his arms, beginning to whimper and cry in his sleep. Alchemy just dearly hoped that they wouldn’t have an encounter with Error until he truly understood what in the worlds was happening. 

And Ink? He wasn’t responding no matter what the Magigod said through the watch. It seemed he had plans of his own. 

He was the only one left who hadn’t been steered off course. He had a strong resolve to help the terrified researchers, but… they would be safer in the barricaded rooms, wouldn’t they? Those who were roaming around in the hallways were doomed, he knew but… seeing as the building was teleport-proof, majority of the employees should have been safe. 

Dream began to come to, and his bright, golden eyes peeked through his sockets. He spoke weakly. “Al…Alchemy…”

The God of Magic looked down at him in surprise. “Dream, how do you feel?? Are you okay??”

The Protector of Light squinted, tearing up. “I don’t… do… “

He passed out again before he could even finish talking, going limp in Alchemy’s arms. 

Then, the raucous noise of the creature sounded again, on the complete opposite side of the building and Alchemy’s mind did a double take. That wasn’t possible. There’s no way the Destroyer could have moved from one place to the other so quickly unless-

Unless…

…!

The God fished around in his coat pocket frantically and produced a keycard. The technology of the key was unique in the way it only functioned if a certain person was holding it – in this case, it was Alchemy. It simply couldn’t be stolen, for in the wrong hands it would only be a piece of plastic, landing the thieves who stole it nowhere, ensuring that there would be no access into locked down rooms.

However, he now had a sinking feeling that the keycard was useless to their attacker.

He sprinted towards the nearest metal door. Another perk of the locked rooms – they were soundproof. Invaders wouldn’t know if people were inside, and therefore wouldn’t spend as much energy trying to get in if there was no guarantee that they would find anyone. Currently though, it seemed like the stupidest idea he had ever had.

He quickly swiped the card against a panel on the wall, a small light blinked green, and the metal blockade slowly rolled back up into the slot where it had fallen. 

Alchemy had expected to see a roomful of scientists, relieved at his presence. But there was no movement in the darkness. Raising a palm, he effortlessly summoned a burst of lavender flames to light the room. 

Inside, there was only dust, and a ceiling covered in red strings.

He felt nausea rise in his nonexistent throat. He moved to the next door, completely distraught.

It was the same in every room.

Dust and strings.

Dust and strings.

Dust and strings.

_Dust and strings._

They were like massive targets to The Destroyer. A bunch of free EXP, all huddled together and waiting, defenseless. It was too easy.

…

…

Alchemy almost never cried. He could only remember a few instances in his life where something had moved him to tears. One was his son’s wedding. Another was when he had heard the news of Foreign’s betrayal and felt personally responsible for not noticing the signs. But even in events such as those, his sockets were only briefly wet before he was able to pull himself together and carry on.

But this was different. In his arrogance, he couldn’t save them. He just assumed that the Destroyer could be put down without a problem. There wasn’t anyone to blame except himself for this mess. He created this monster.

It was his fault they were all dead. They put so much faith in him to protect them all and he let them down. 

He tightened his hold on Dream and a tear went down his cheek.

\----------~*~*~----------

Ink thought that killing them all would be a great idea!

They deserved it. They deserved it for treating him like garbage, for making him the enemy, for torturing him. He was almost about to sit back and watch the spineless cowards who made Error like this in the first place _**suffer.**_

Maybe if Error killed them all they’d be alone. 

Just the two of them. Then they wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. They wouldn’t have to fear their relationship getting found out.

…

But that’s what _Ink_ wanted. 

…

…

…

He had to stop Error.

He quickly slipped a shock collar remote from the pocket of a dusty lab coat into his satchel.

\----------~*~*~----------

_Be-beep!_

Gradient startled awake when his text tone beeped in the silence. He was wide-eyed at the sudden disturbance, his body immediately jumping into fight or flight. It took him a few moments to calm himself down before rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed. He must have forgotten to silence the damn thing. 

He yawned, still half asleep, and fumbled around half-heartedly for his glasses, and slipped them over the bridge of his nasal cavity. 

**@RazorKnightly:** Hey

Gray blinked at the message a few times, subconsciously snuggling back into his blankets as he squinted, his eyes not yet adjusted to the sudden change in light. He quickly typed a message back

 **@77Digiglitch77:** It’s 2am

 **@RazorKnightly:** Oh sorry lol i just want to tellyou something importan

Huh. His text seemed a bit rushed. 

**@77Digiglitch77:** k

 **@RazorKnightly:** kso just to let u kno

 **@77Digiglitch77:** ya

Gradient was nearly falling asleep again, his eyes slowly closing. He could feel himself drooling a little bit – his cheek smooshed against the bed. The hand holding his phone beginning to go limp.

 **@RazorKnightly:** k so I saved up all the money I could from everywhere because I sometims I get chore money andfind sum pounds on the sidewalk

 **@77Digiglitch77:** mMm

 **@RazorKnightly:** And I bought a plane ticket to Montana

Suddenly Gradient was wide awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uwu i love me som plot *sad cowboy noises*
> 
> ALso follow  
> my  
> Tumblr  
> you  
> peasants.  
> I do cool things like play the piano and draw pictures and scream about errink also I want love and affection and I'm not even going to deny it.
> 
> @onlyplatonicirl (you cant link things in ao3 so just look it up lmao)


	13. Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alchemy's feeling hopeless and Error's going un poco loco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I've been busy with life stuff uwu
> 
> Also I've decided to cut this chapter in half - I know y'all want that spicy content, so I'm gonna provide it. Hopefully I can write more now.
> 
> Also....... I recieved some more art! Here are some awesome doodles by dreamversed on Tumblr!  
> https://dreamversed.tumblr.com/post/186620385269/more-tcoti-stuff-again-if-you-havent-read-it-go  
> https://dreamversed.tumblr.com/post/186595796884/the-vial-that-pertained-to-shock-cracked-and
> 
> Warning: this chap has a lotta edgies, but have some uwus to help ease the pain

 Gradient was trying his hardest not to lose his mind. He really was.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** AND YOU COULDN’T EVEN GIVE ME A HEADS UP???

  **@RazorKnightly:** Look dude I’m rlly sorry I didn’t say anything be4 but honestly I’m out of options

 **@77Digiglitch77:** WHICH OPTIONS

 **@RazorKnightly:** Ummmm ALL OF THEM??

 **@77Digiglitch77:** OkaY THIS IS LITERALLY THE DUMBEST DESCISION EVER

 **@RazorKnightly:** LOOK I’VE BEEN PANICKED THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS AND I HAVEN’T BEEN MAKING A WHOLE LOT OF SENSE.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GO

 **@RazorKnightly:** EVEN MY NEIGHBOURS HATE ME

 **@RazorKnightly:** I KNOW IT WAS DUMB TRUST ME BUT I CAN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE 

 **@77Digiglitch77:** FOR ALL YOU KNOW I COULD BE A SEVENTY YEAR OLD PERVERT LIVING ON A DIET OF DEAD RATS

 **@RazorKnightly:** Are you?

 **@77Digiglitch77:** no but still

 **@RazorKnightly:** Still nothing. I’ve made up my mind. I’ve decided. Period.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Do you even understand how creepy that is?

 **@RazorKnightly:** LOOK I’M NOT GOING BECAUSE OF YOU IT’S BECAUSE I ONLY KNOW ONE PERSON AND YOU LIVE IN MONTANA SO THAT’S WHERE I’M GOING. I DON’T EVEN CARE IF I SEE YOU.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I JUST MIGHT HAVE A REMOTE CHANCE OF SEEING SOMEONE WHO GENUINELY CARES ABOUT ME AND THAT’S GREATER THAN GOING ANYWHERE ELSE.

Gradient’s eyesight was getting blurry as he aggressively jammed his fingers onto the screen.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** I DON’T. EVEN. FUCKING. LIVE IN MONTANA.

For once, the ellipses signifying his friend’s typing disappeared. Gradient held his breath, trying to keep himself from crying as he typed a response. But he got a small message in return before he could explain his lies.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I guess that figures.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** I picked a random state off the map of America. I just… you wouldn’t understand what’s going on, trust me

 **@RazorKnightly:** …

 **@RazorKnightly:** I guess you wouldn’t want to give your location to a stranger.

 **@RazorKnighty:** That’s cool

 **@RazorKnightly:** But how much else have you lied to me about.

 **@RazorKnightly:** Let me guess, your father isn’t really in prison, and your mom isn’t as badass as you say she is.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** no look its not like that. I only lied when I had to.

 **@RazorKnightly:** right, so you did lie. Perfect.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** I didn’t have a choice you wouldn’t understand its too risky.

 **@RazorKnightly:** Yeah, risky for our friendship

 **@RazorKnightly:** … you were like the only person I had to talk to.

 **@RazorKnightly:** Do you even understand how much it meant that someone would take even a little time out of their day 2 play Minecraft with me.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I guess not

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Wait before you go

 **@RazorKnightly:** I don’t care.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I already have my destination set. That’s where I’m headed. I literally don’t care if I see you or not – I’m starting over.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** wait don’t log off

 **@RazorKnightly:** bye. Thanks for playing with me

 **@RazorKnightly:** WAIT DON’T LOG OFF

Silence. Gradient hiccuped in the darkness, his glasses fogged over with tears. He hugged the blankets close and squinted down at his phone screen. Razor was still online. Waiting. Waiting for Gradient to respond.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** It’s true… I don’t live in Montana…

He bit his lip and his mind raced, sweat running down his forehead. _Oh please god don’t do it… this is a bad idea this is a BAD IDEA-_

He typed anyways, fingers trembling.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** But I’ll meet you there.

_What did you just do, Gradient. What. Did you just do._

**@RazorKnightly:** ?!!?!?

 **@RazorKnightly:** What?????

Well, the fire’s already been started.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Which airport, which timeline

 **@RazorKnightly:** Timeline??????????? Tf r u goin on about???

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Trust me, its fine. My parents are… preoccupied.

 **@RazorKnightly:** I’m REALLY confused.

Gradient was hopping out of bed as he typed.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** Short version of the story: I’m the technical definition of an extraterrestrial alien.

The skeleton quickly powered up his computer and his fingers rapidly clicked away at the keys, logging himself in. His phone kept buzzing impatiently as if to voice Razor’s demand for an explanation. But Gradient gave him none. He pulled up a map of Montana and retyped his earlier question impatiently, ignoring the six short confused messages before, consisting primarily of marks.

 **@77Digiglitch77:** airport.

 **@RazorKnightly:** DUDE WHAT THE FUCk ARE YOU DOING

 **@77DigiGlitch77:** AIRPORT. LOCATION.

 **@RazorKnightly:** UhUHUh… Bozeman Yellowstone international airport

 **@77DigiGlitch77:** perfect thx

 **@RazorKnightly:** Dude!!!!!!!!!?????????????

 **@RazorKnightly:** You haven’t explained anything!!!!!!! Hello????

 **@RazorKnightly:** You aren’t a motherfucking alien

 **@RazorKnightly:** No you’re no

 **@RazorKnightly:** Wait come back online and say that you’re not an alien

 **@RazorKnightly:** I’m really confused. Are you like… meeting me there??? Or what??

 **@RazorKnightly:** FUCK MAN WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

 **@RazorKnightly:** WAHTS THE LONG VERSION OF THE STORY

 **@77Digiglitch77:** I’ll tell you in person. Just get on the plane, and I’ll see you soon.

 ----------~*~*~----------

Error took a step forward, feeling his bare feet against the cold tile. Trying to remember, through his scrambled mind, the last time he had walked.

Another step.

The halls were dark.

His vision was worse, but his scope was much broader. The eyes on his forehead wouldn’t line up – they kept swiveling in different directions.

Blink.

Blink. 

The lights blinked slowly.

He kept stumbling through the darkness, growling with every exhale.

His body wouldn’t stop twitching. It made it hard to walk and everything was too loud.

Too loud too loud TOO LOUD _tooloud **toolouddddddddd**_

Movement ahead of him was instantly reduced to dust as he kept walking forward, step by step by step. It was chaos. His head was chaos. It wouldn’t **_SHUT UP-_**

He needed to find more kills. That was the only thing fueling his soul. LV LV LV LV LV! He needed more. **HE NEEDED M orE  E    !**

More hated bubbled up between his teeth and spilled onto the floor as he collapsed into the nearest wall, screeching. His brain was clouded over with deafening white noise. It was all too much.

He tilted his head back and began to rake his fingers along the metal collar, tugging it so hard that it chipped his bones. It wouldn’t come off. It wouldn’t come off. It would NEver C **ome off!!!!!!**

While he whined and convulsed, something twitched. A second set of arms unfurled from his ribs and took to feebly scratching at the walls, every joint dripping black like a melting ice cube. Brand new nerve endings began to fire up through the extra appendages. It was… **_uncontrollab_** _intoxicatinG_

But even the wave of rage that passed through his bones wasn’t enough to get the collar off.

He was trapped.

He was

T̴̶̛͟͝R̴̢͘͠͠A̸҉P̶̧͝P̡̕͞͡E̷̵̕D̸  
---  
  
  
He screeched and his voice became shredded and he tore through the metal walls as if it were paper.

How pathetic.

He couldn’t… He can’t… HE CAN’T!

Another scream and his bones kept snapping, his mind clouding over with bloodlust.

But he didn’t have to kill rainbow right away.

He could P̴̥̯̞͝L̜̼̙̼̻͚̯͙͙͝A̢͏̰͕͜Y̴͕͇̣͢ with the others and leave the best for last!

 ----------~*~*~----------

“Alpha team seven isn’t responding. Only feedback is static.”

“Send out another team. If we can’t fight it off, then let’s at least distract it until Alchemy can find a way to knock it dead.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The team advanced down the corridor, weapons armed and at the ready.

Although Ink knew there was no point. They were walking straight into the mouth of the beast and didn’t even know it.

Ink slowly slipped out from behind the door frame of an abandoned room, peeking his head around the corner. He was alone. Perfect.

He bounded away from his hiding spot with haste, knowing that if he were to run into any of his partners he would be questioned. He couldn’t afford to give himself away.

Each room was like a mass grave – dust sprinkled all over the ground. But Ink couldn’t care less. He checked every room, looking for clues to where Error might have gone. However, it was difficult – the Destroyer’s laughter seemed to echo from everywhere at once.

Plus, it was evident that he could teleport. Just the fact alone made Ink close to vomiting. If even Alchemy couldn’t teleport… then they were all on thin ice.

Every couple of steps, Ink would glance around and knock out the already shattered security cameras, just for good measure. No one could know where he was. They were already suspicious, and Ink silently cursed himself for screwing the whole operation up so badly. It was supposed to be quick – a one and done. Go down, scare the living shit out of the researchers, nab Error, and then leave. Simple, clean, and with little casualties.

But of _course,_ everything had to be made a million times more difficult thanks to those pricks, trying to be “noble” or some garbage. If only they knew what he was doing… maybe they wouldn’t stop him.

Or if he knew they would be accepting of his endeavor, he wouldn’t need to dress up as a villain and put on a show. Maybe he could have just told them before they even considered capturing Error.  Then he wouldn’t even be in this mess to begin with.

Wouldn’t that be the life.

_Sniff_

Ink stopped in his tracks, listening to a feeble voice in one of the rooms. Someone was crying. Someone was _alive._

He immediately backtracked and poked his head through the doorway. It was dark, and he couldn’t see too well. But he could hear them. The noises were feminine and sounded almost… pained.

The artist stepped into the room and summoned a long bone into his hand, which manifested with a show, building itself out of swirling tendrils of light. It shined a brightly, like a newly cracked glow stick. He gently leaned the object against the wall, as it bathed the room in a bright blue light – not nearly enough to strain the eyes, however.

There, in the corner of the room, was a figure, leaning on the wall and hunched over themselves, clutching a hand to their stomach. Their knees were drawn up to their stomach and their head was bowed low. Every inhale seemed pained, and they gave a wet cough. Ink immediately recognized them, or rather, _her_. But it seemed like she wasn’t even remotely concerned with Ink’s presence, nor had she noticed it.

“M…Molly…?”

The cat monster’s ear twitched weakly in acknowledgement that Ink was there, but she otherwise didn’t make any moves. Ink quickly crossed the room and knelt by her feet. She slid down the wall, not bothering to keep herself supported.

“Molly…?”

She slowly turned over her paw to reveal her stomach, her digits shaking.

Her palm and fur were stained red, and so was her lab coat. A circular splotch of crimson that Ink knew went much deeper than the surface had been hidden by her paw.

Molly raised her head. Her eyes were losing their light and going gray. Yet still, she smiled, ignoring the red that trailed down her chin.

Ink didn’t know what to do, and he began to feel panic running its course through his bones.

“Oh god… Oh god… U-um put pressure on it – I’ll get Dream and Alchemy, or I’ll paint the injury-“

Laughter. Molly was laughing. It was horrendously feeble. “No…” She whispered.

“Even if you… call them… they won’t be able to heal me fast… enough.” She took heaving breaths and clutched her paw back onto the wound. “Even if you were to… paint over the gash… there’s too much internal damage…”

Her head lolled to the side to face Ink, whose absence of eyelights surprised her, but she smiled, a pained grin plastered on her face nonetheless. “Haha… wait, don’t tell me… you want to rescue Error…?”

The Guardian went rigid and his fingers twitched. His vials were already acting out of control – he didn’t know how much he could take. Molly kept talking. “Yeah, you look at him funny… and every time you’re here… you-“ she wheezed. “You don’t act n-normal… I saw you taking notes on that scarf…”

Molly’s laughter ticked up a notch, and only rose higher as the sounds of glitched screaming rang through the building. Tears rose, her twitching eyelids causing them to spill early. “They had… they had it coming… they had it coming the whole fucking time…”

“Did… did Error do this to you?”

A dip of her head – an attempt at a nod. “He left me alive… he killed everyone and left me alive. Out of mercy or… hatred… I don’t know…”

Another wet cough. Ink took the cat monster into his arms and held one hand to her face desperately, his eyes switching colors in his panic. She only slumped down further and made no attempt to stop the artist. “It’s my fault, I didn’t stop them… I didn’t stop him… I wasn’t there for him enough…”

Ink just stared at her, shaking his head and feeling tears of his own begin to brim. “No… no no no… it’s my fault. It’s MY fault because I promised him… I promised him that we’d get through this together without any violence-!” He sniffed, feeling himself loose control of his emotions. He had repressed them for too long.

“They shouldn’t have hurt him. They should NEVER have hurt him, but they didn’t know. They didn’t know that I loved-“

He stopped himself. But decided to continue. “…that I loved him. I… I love him. They hurt him. They hurt him so badly but I… I can’t hurt them back. I made a promise to him. A promise to this entire world.”

Ink didn’t meet Molly’s eyes. He could already see her face: disgust, shock, rage, betrayal. Despair. He didn’t want to know that he was responsible for, in her dying moments, revealing the grizzly truth. So he didn’t look, and felt his vials cycling on and off like faulty light bulbs.

But he didn’t have to make any moves – Molly reached out a bloody paw and tilted his chin up, wiping his tears away with tremendously shaky movements. None of the hatred Ink had expected was present in her eyes. Instead, she looked even more relaxed.

“Now I know… what he had been dreaming… about…you’re the rainbows…” She whispered. Her claws were slowly shedding dust. “Find him. He still loves you.”

Her voice was fading quick. “He s-still loves y-you…” The tear ducts were dried. She had no more strength. She gave one last smile before her muscles relaxed and her eyes gently closed.

Then Ink had a dusty lab coat in his quaking hands.

 ----------~*~*~----------

Alchemy was usually calm and level in stressful situations. He was the unofficial leader of the Omega Timeline, and he knew just as well as anybody else why he had been put in charge – his intellect and magical prowess. He even had a higher position in the hierarchy of the Gods than King Asgore. When it came to power, Alchemy always came out on top. Without a doubt, his magic was of exceptional skill – he had been studying the art for so long, his earliest books dated back to the most ancient eras of history, and quite possibly before that.

No one could stand up to him and come out undefeated. It was simply impossible. And that’s what gave him his confidence. Knowing that there was hardly a soul out there he couldn’t take down was a reassurance that he could protect the people who elected him.

But there are no absolutes – and some things were just out of his control.

“Sir!”

Alchemy offered the Undyne who approached him a glance, before returning his attention to the fitful skeleton in his arms. They were losing numbers too rapidly to count. Everyone had been ordered a retreat by Alchemy, which would have given them a higher chance of survival – if the elevator had been in service. Now, with no where to go, the soldiers simply waited for the impending doom to fall.

“Yes.” The God responded blandly. He was leaned against the wall, taking watch of the few that clung to him like suction cups. He was their best chance at surviving this mess.

“We, uh… there’s been talk of something… a way to stop Error.”

That got Alchemy interested. He met her eyes with a worn expression. “I’ve told you – I need to combat him alone. I don’t know what you all plan on doing but whatever it is will get you all killed. He can teleport.”

“We know, sir, but uh…” She ran off to two others and hurriedly whispered, and they nodded and went and got another individual. Alchemy looked back at Dream. The Protector of Light was still asleep in his arms, but his face was scrunched up, like he was having a horrible nightmare. Alchemy began to stroke his skull without thinking.

A tap on his shoulder. The Undyne was presenting him with something. It was grey, and made up of several strands of metal, twisted into the shape of a heart. Spikes circled around the wires like a crown of thorns.

“The… soul handler?” He asked softly, taking it into his hands. “What do you suppose this would do to him? He’s clearly unable to be slowed, let alone maimed. Completely livid with power. And I… I don’t know where it stems from.”

The Undyne nodded along through Alchemy’s pity party, eager to rush him. “Uh huh. Yeah, but, me and some of the others were thinking that… if we drew all the spikes back at once and then clamped them all down over his soul –“ She clapped her hands together for emphasis. “- then the multiple puncture wounds in his heart would definitely kill him.”

Alchemy was suddenly much more interested in hearing her theory, mumbling along with her. “There’s no way he can possibly be at full health – not after all the drugs and detrimental procedures he just endured. His body is still weak. He must be drawing this power from an external source…”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it will work. If not well…” Her voice became suddenly somber. “… we tried our best, right?”

Alchemy’s breath hitched but he nodded nonetheless, looking at the chains in his hand. The tool had been an early attempt at keeping Error submissive. With full control over the soul, one had full control over the owner. It was that simple. If he acted up, he would have gotten a prod to the soul. They had even considered using the tool to alter the soul to their whims; to change his being entirely. But the project was scrapped – it was too risky and didn’t have as high of a success rate as the amnesia pills would have. Plus, many researchers on board had wanted to use it as a form of public torture, and that’s simply a line Alchemy would not cross.

“Yes, we did…”

“…”

With a sudden resolve, Alchemy clutched the device in his hand. “Do you have the connecting remote?”

“Yes. One of the other guards managed to nab it from the room.”

“Excellent. Do you think you would be able to apply it to him – or perhaps launch it from a distance to latch onto his soul?”

“Of course, sir. One of the others said that the device would automatically draw out the and wrap itself around it.”

Alchemy nodded. “Perfect. Ready your men.”

The Undyne stopped him before he could turn and walk away. “Wait – um, there’s a minor drawback to the system.”

“…Yes?”

“Well…” She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but couldn’t find the right words to explain. So eventually, she gave up and went to find another partner of hers. The monster she brought over looked a little something like a deer, but with bright red eyes and a blasé attitude.

“Listen,” the monster said. “The device wasn’t designed for an ‘instant kill’. Using it for its intended purpose would only result in minor wounds to the soul, issued one at a time. If we are to wind all these spikes back and thrust them forward with enough power to truly pierce and dispose of his soul, it will take some time to ‘charge’, so to speak.”

“How long?”

The deer moved her paw in a so-so fashion. “Erm… about ten-fifteen minutes, I suppose. I could get a more accurate reading once it’s attached and prepped.”

Two spectral hands were summoned out of thin air, and clapped together a few times, alerting everyone to Alchemy’s presence. “Then we have no time to waste. Come, we need to move. If you all are to survive than this seems to be our best shot at defeating The Destroyer once and for all.”

Someone whistled softly in glee, despite the melancholy atmosphere. A few others grimaced and white-knuckled their weapons.

Alchemy hugged Dream tighter to his chest and waved a hand, motioning for them all to follow as he started down the hall, advancing into the darkness – into the lair of the beast.

Everyone dutifully trailed behind. A few were trembling, unable to be stilled by their companions.

It didn’t take them long to find the trouble.

_Thunk_

Everyone in the group came to an abrupt halt. Alchemy raised a hand to signal for no noise and strained his hearing.

 _Thunk._ The sound of something against hard metal.

 _“What’s that?”_ Someone whispered, frightened, ignoring Alchemy’s warning gaze. They listened for more noise among the silence, save for the incessant buzzing and flicking of broken lights.

It sounded again. And again. Each sound getting closer and closer. But he couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

“Weapons at the ready,” He said, shifting Dream into one arm while the other raised. He held up two fingers and cryptic symbols began to flame in his palm. A silent wave of energy burst from his hand, expanding outward and scanning the surrounding area for movement. Besides the guards behind him, nothing was showing up on his magical radar, and his palms began to feel clammy.

Before he could issue another command, he heard more noise. A squeaking, coming from directly above them – something slimy against thin metal sheets. His mind was spinning, unsure of where the attack would come from, or wondering if his imagination was simply running wild.

And then he heard it.

_Thunk_

Right to his left. He made his command for silence more pronounced and advanced towards the wall, pressing the side of his head to the wall.

…

Breathing.

There was slow, feral breathing on the other side.

Alchemy immediately reeled back and his eyes flared up.

“Everyone back up immediately back up BACK UP-!”

But it was too late. Alchemy barely had time to dive to the ground as a blur viciously tore out from the metal barricade and pounced, shrieking madly and instantly dusting two guards.

Alchemy rolled over with a grunt from where he was on the ground, just in time to see a few more guards, who had already attempted to flee, done away with.

The black monstrosity bounced from wall to wall and parried all gunshots with ease, its fingers and toes gripping onto the ceiling as it scuttled across like a spider. With a roar, strings shot down and took out the remaining few, the small threads going directly through their bodies. The Soul Handler clattered to the floor.

The God of Magic clutched Dream to his chest as he looked up at the abomination, who with inhuman speed, suddenly dropped to the ground in front of him, sticking the landing with perfect coordination, its head low.

Alchemy blanched as his eyes took in Error’s form. Slowly, with jerky movements, the creature raised its head, its five eyes swiveling and dripping a black substance, thicker than tears. A tornado of glitches swirled around its body as red vapor poured from in between jagged teeth.

All five eyes locked on Alchemy and burned with blood lust, raising its arms, and flexing twenty fingers.

Alchemy’s eyes burned with a famous, world-shifting determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oopsie doopsie me hand slipp
> 
> anyways like.... yeah...
> 
> uwu i guess
> 
> I was gonna make this and the next chapter one big ol chapter but man am i impatient lmao


	14. Impasse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanity is slipping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!! SOrry i disappeared i hardly had any time to write and then i sat down today and wrote for like five hours jdklsajfldsjkfdsjalfds
> 
> Anyways what better way to start off your school year than with a huge heaping pile of angst? I know its my favorite way lmaoooooooo i literally am trash anyways
> 
> hope u enjoy i might have gotten carried away at some points sorry if its cringey or whatever
> 
> (SMALL WARNING: A BIT MORE VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER: It's a fight scene, so it should be expected, but still - nothing outrageously graphic. They are skeletons. its just som crumchy bhones. no guts or anything nasty like that)

There was a brief silence, predator staring down their prey, sitting on the ground and appearing weak. The Destroyer’s newfound abilities seemed to make him drunk with power, his fingers clicking anxiously. Claws raked at thin air, like every second he wasn’t tearing flesh was a second wasted. Red liquid dripped from his eyes as they blinked and shivered in his sockets.

Alchemy wasn’t supposed to have any doubts when it came to his capabilities. Through his racing thoughts, he attempted to assure himself this was an easy foe. But he didn’t quite manage to convince himself.

His voice was low, but no less menacing than a shout. “You’ve gone too far this time, Destroyer. You should have learned to accept your fate.”

The beast’s head cocked in a sarcastic interest as the lights overhead flashed in strobe-like patterns. 

The god waited for the Destroyer’s attack, already sparking magic in his palm. But sudden movement caught Alchemy’s eye.

Dream started writhing in Alchemy’s arms. His breath began to come faster and heavier. Soon, each breath turned into a groan, and then each groan became a shout. An unnatural, scratching noise was tearing up his throat.

He was suffocating, heaving for breath even without any lungs. Every limb began to twitch and shake while tears pricked at Dream’s eyes. 

Alchemy quickly looked his companion over, trying to figure out how he could help him. But a few seconds of distraction was all that it took. 

A clawed hand shot out and with a swift motion, grabbed the side of his skull and smashed it into the ground. The God toppled over, and the sickening crack of bone meeting metal rang throughout the hall. 

Dream’s tremors stilled and he went limp again.

Ever so slowly, Alchemy pushed himself back up with one hand, groaning in pain. He kept Dream clutched tightly. Without his usual grace, he got to his feet, wobbling. Error clearly enjoyed seeing Alchemy suffer. 

The god lifted his head to stare his foe in the eyes. Calmly, he wiped his sleeve against his nose, wiping up a little marrow that had leaked. There was a minor fissure in his skull, which was already disappearing rapidly.

“Okay,” he said, his voice level. “If that’s how it’s going to be…”

His arm was flung out straight in front of him, and before Error could even register what was happening to him, he was flying across the room. A blast of purple light erupted from Alchemy’s palm and hit Error with so much force he would have rocketed straight into the opposing wall. But by some uncanny ability, he switched his gravitational direction midflight and latched onto the ceiling, curling his fingers for a better grip. He growled at Alchemy, realizing that he might not willingly succumb to Error’s little game like he thought.

Alchemy stamped his foot, and a large, arcane symbol swirled under his feet. Markings seeped into his bones like molten glass poured into a mold and snaked up his skull. His tailcoats flapped in the artificial wind as a double-edged scythe made entirely of magic fell into his hands. He twirled it and it left glowing tracks, the same color as his illuminated eyes. Six massive apparitions the shape of hands spun into existence, each with fingers bent in a certain position, spelling out a word long lost by time and only remembered by the ancient deity of Magic. Two hands moved to Dream’s broken body and encased him in a small, protective bubble. Each of the palms had a perfectly even hole carved into them, and orbs of light rested in the center, sparking with life. The room around him warped with the raw energy he was exerting.

A smirk graced his face as the runes flared.

“…then let’s dance.”

Error grinned and dropped. The second his feet touched the floor he had bounced in Alchemy’s direction, arms outstretch and ready to strike. However, a simple sidestep had the glitch smacking his head on a conjured wall. Caught off guard, Error didn’t have time to see the swinging scythe, knocking his feet down. He howled in agony as the blade cut deep into his ankle. 

But the minor injury didn’t deter him at all. His claws managed to catch the revolving blade and used it to swing himself back upright and throw Alchemy against the wall with a shove. A scream tore from his throat and all twenty fingers were instantly tied with red string, looping and hanging themselves from the ceiling, catching onto Alchemy’s limbs. The god quickly cut them, but no matter how many times he tried, the string would only reattach itself tighter. With a final frustrated growl, he snapped his fingers and his eyes burned orange.

Bright flames erupted from his palms and quickly trailed up the strings, burning them as if they were made of paper. Error shrieked as the flames swallowed his hands, retreating into the nest of strings he had weaved into the ceiling. There were a few growls echoing from above, and the strings twitched as he crawled through the tunnels he had created.

Alchemy gripped his weapon tighter. “Come out you _snake!_ ” he spit. He didn’t wait for a response, summoning a circular rune into thin air with pointed edges. It spun through the ceiling, tearing an even gap in the metal and cutting down every string that had just been wound moments ago. It vanished once it was through, but there was no visible sign of Error.

But audio cued Alchemy into what was about to happen next. 

He spun around but his reaction time was seconds too late – Error had lunged, clawing at him ruthlessly, seeming to forget his magical capabilities in turn for going feral. Alchemy tried to block, but the Destroyer couldn’t be stopped. He shrieked and tore, ripping up the God’s suit and raking through the bone as if it was clay. Alchemy dissipated the weapon to try and pry Error off, but he wouldn’t still, screaming with rage as he bit and tore up every part of Alchemy’s body he could reach.

Alchemy couldn’t keep track of where the limbs were, and a carnal fear took over his usual wit in battle. Every time he tried to summon something an injury would demand his attention and he began losing too much blood to concentrate on fighting back. He didn’t even remember falling to the ground. The monster wouldn’t stop.

Without anything else to fall back on, Alchemy relaxed.

He closed his eyes.

And for a split second, he thought of his son, and grandson.

His eyes snapped open, glowing with a furious energy.

He couldn’t let this beast win. People were counting on him. He couldn’t be allowed to fail any more than he already had.

With a quick snap of his fingers, Error was suddenly attacking thin air. He collapsed to the floor, still rabid with rage and tearing at the metal beneath him. Alchemy’s form was nothing more than a silhouette of dotted with stars, ghosting through Error like a phantom. One motion, and his weapon was back into his hands. 

The Destroyer seemed utterly perplexed with Alchemy’s new form and couldn’t appear to understand that Alchemy was intangible. He only lunged repeatedly, trying to murder something that he couldn’t grasp. Alchemy thought it was a pathetic display of how little intelligence the hate-infested terror had.

But just because Error couldn’t touch him, it didn’t mean it didn’t work vice versa. A quick stroke, and Error was howling in pain, one of his multiple arms having been cut clean off with a spray of black slime and red liquid, too bright to be blood.

Another swing, and the glitches began to multiply exponentially by the second. A full arm this time went flying, and a horrible gash was carved into his leg with the residual of the attack.

The God’s form solidified once again. He stood over his broken opponent, both hands clutching the weapon. 

“You’re pathetic. Nothing more than an animal.” Without looking behind him, he raised a hand, a metal object from the ground zipped into his hand. He deftly caught it and pelted it in Error’s direction. Almost as if there was a magnetic attraction, Error’s soul was drawn out of his ribcage and summoned into a physical form.

Alchemy only had a brief glance, but it was enough for him to absorb what he saw. The upside-down heart was broken and cracked, and was as black as the void – an unnatural coloration for a monster’s soul. The device quickly latched itself to the culmination of his being, the metal chains wrapping around the width. Error’s two remaining arms scratched at the metal as he howled in terror, but it was futile. The Destroyer was bleeding heavily, his eyes leaking both black hatred and tears. But Alchemy held no remorse.

With a snap, the connecting remote was in his hands. He watched the animal on the ground writhing, backing up against the wall and panting desperately, finally recognizing Alchemy as a real danger. His eyes darted around in different directions frantically as he looked for escape, but there was nowhere to run. Not with the injuries he had just sustained.

Error whimpered and cried. But there was no real emotion behind those eyes – only feral survival instinct. Alchemy’s expression was fed up and bored with the Destroyer’s dirty tricks. So, he pressed the button.

Immediately, one of the needle-like bits of metal stabbed into his soul, subsequently followed by another. And Error _screamed._

He clawed and scratched at his encased soul, but he didn’t even dent the metal – they had designed it to withstand the raw strength of the Destroyer. In between screams, there was another noise: small, periodic ticks.

It was working. In a short amount of time, his soul would be mutilated into unrecognizable tidbits on the ground, and the Destroyer done for. Finally.

Alchemy kneeled on the ground and stared at the mess in front of him, screeching and kicking his legs frantically as tears spilled from all five eyes. Error was beside himself, extending his destruction to his own ribcage, red mist leaking from his chest.

“Look at you,” he said under his breath. “I kept on trying to tell myself that you weren’t some sort of a… feral demon. Something with a conscious.”

Error kept scratching at the collar and handler, babbling incoherently. Alchemy simply sighed.

“You just reaffirm my suspicions at every turn. Let’s put you poor thing out of your misery. Maybe if I knock you out you won’t be able to feel the puncture wounds as your soul slowly shrivels and dies.”

The scythe swung over Alchemy’s shoulder. The Destroyer kept writhing and drooling, as if he didn’t even know what was about to happen.

The God of Magic swung the weapon down.

But it was blocked by a yellow staff.

Alchemy turned and looked into the eyes of Dream, now awake.

\----------~*~*~----------

A gurgling mass of eyes and teeth waited patiently.

There was quite a ruckus outside, and the Creator was nowhere to be seen in the fray.

Well, that made its job much easier.

Less people, less work. It had seen the paint-brained skeleton running around on the opposite side of the building, planning something.

Good. Ink could lure Error right to it. Perfect!

It heard the monster scream in anguish and wrapped its appendages around the grates, squeezing the metal into contorted shapes with ease, before slowly slinking back into the shadows with wheezing breaths. Not now. It needed to wait.

\----------~*~*~----------

The blank expression in Dream’s eyes almost made Alchemy believe that it wasn’t him. The bubble where he had been previously floating had a hole: broken like a glass window with shards on the ground.

With all the years he had known Dream, Alchemy had come to associate him with three primary emotions that he outwardly displayed: He was demure, courageous, and most importantly, positive. The smaller was rarely upset, and even in the worst of times, always looked on the bright side. It was one of the reasons he was so respected and loved throughout the multiverse.

But the way he looked at Alchemy, he could have been a different person all together.

The God was too shocked to predict the violent force Dream used to swing him backwards. Only out of years of fighting experience did he have enough wit to block another incoming blow, and their weapons clashed together.

“D…Dream?” He spluttered. The skeleton was significantly shorter than he was, but that didn’t make him any less strong. The smaller’s response was to push his weapon further against Alchemy’s, his feet skidding backwards against the tile.

Without any hesitation, Dream leapt backwards and swung his staff in circles expertly, before diving back in and swinging three more time in quick succession. Alchemy blocked every blow with his own conjured scythe but was unable to dodge an electric blue arrow that pierced his shoulder blade. 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Dream, with an infuriated expression on his face, jumped into the air and drew his bow from thin air, pulling another arrow backwards. Alchemy’s palm ignited and built a shield on his forearm, not only blocking the projectile but shooting five clones back in Dream’s direction, which the smaller twisted to avoid in the air, and landing perfectly on his feet.

“Dream…” Again, no response.

Alchemy knew something was wrong. Dream’s eyes were no longer yellow but a burning red, the same color as Error’s. “Snap out of it, Dream. The Destroyer must be doing something to you –“

But Error was still slumped against the wall, kicking his legs and weakly clawing at his constraints. Alchemy could even see four-armed skeleton foaming at the mouth as he cried. He didn’t even seem to care about either Alchemy or Dream.

The Protector of Light took a step forward, the bow vanishing, instead replaced by a serrated dagger, with a sleek polish and a handle the color of Dream’s sunny clothing. Alchemy had never once seen such a weapon used before.

“I can feel it…” Dream said, as if he was in a trance. “His agony, his sorrow… his pain, his anguish. It’s all because of you.” He raised the knife, and bent his knees, ready to strike.

Alchemy didn’t have time to open his mouth before Dream suddenly rushed forward and swung the weapon down, slicing the shield in half with a clean cut. He rushed to strike again, but Alchemy caught him by the wrist.

The smaller skeleton continued to kick and struggle with seemingly endless energy, and Alchemy could only watch, astonished at what he was seeing. 

“THERE’S SO MUCH! I CAN’T HANDLE IT. HE’S HURTING HE’S FUCKING SUFFERING! JUST KILL HIM NOW HE CAN’T BREATHE!!”

Dream continued to scream, unable to help himself, hatred and sorrow thick in the air and depriving him of his senses. Overwhelmed, his eyelights went out and he collapsed once again, still held up by a single arm.

The God was tending to him in a second, lying him down on the floor. “Dream,” he muttered frantically. “Dream wake up. Wake up please I beg you don’t dust.”

But Dream didn’t respond.

And Error stood up. 

Alchemy slowly turned his head.

Both of Error’s severed arms had grown back, and he flexed his new fingers, which were still slowly forming from stumps to elongated bone, building themselves back up with glitches. His soul, still wrapped in chains, throbbed in hurt outside of his ribcage. His neck bones were shredded, but the metal collar was still perfectly secure, the blue orb in the center blinking away, showing it was still in perfect working order.

He gave a rumbling laugh, glitches distorting his voice so badly it sounded like his voice box had been put through a meat grinder.

Alchemy, exhausted and ready to end this quickly, waved a hand, and Dream vanished. Hidden in a small pocket dimension, not dissimilar to an inventory, he would be safe. He underestimated the power that Error would have.

“I’m tired and have had enough of your games.” Alchemy snarled. “Are you going to fight, or what? If Dream was, in fact, voicing your thoughts during his breakdown, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind death, would you? It’s already a guarantee for you in the next ten minutes or so.”

Error just gargled. Two tongues lolled out, and he began to unceremoniously hack and wheeze. Alchemy only stared with disgust as he doubled over, clutching at his stomach. With two more heaves, he finally retched up a small object which went skidding across the floor, along with copious amounts of black goo.

It was a single pair of glasses, cracked and broken.

Error licked his teeth.

“You sick _bastard._ ” Alchemy shouted, white knuckling his weapon. And he said no more before he twisted his arm.

Immediately, the floor was pulled from under Error’s feet as he was nauseatingly spun, and he hallway was suddenly vertical. He looked up to see Alchemy, standing calmly on what now looked as if it was the wall.

And then he fell.

It was like a bottomless pit. There was no end in sight, and he kept plummeting down the hallway. Empty rooms rushed past him, practically overflowing with dust. All his doing. The silhouette of Alchemy was getting smaller and smaller, the light vanishing.

His tears fell slower than his body did. With a childlike motion, he tried to grab the floating droplets of water. Flashes of memory burned in his mind as his peripheral vision stung with visions of rooms filled with machinery.

He screamed, not knowing how long the hallway was.

_“Lay down, okay? This won’t hurt.” Gloved hands start tugging at his sockets._

His mind was telling him to take revenge, but he was alone.

_“He doesn’t remember anything, does he? That explains why he's acting so fucking stupid.”_

The walls were getting closer.

_Needles in his arms. They just laughed and clinked glasses in celebration._

He was falling faster.

_His bones were rotting away. Every second was agony._

The tunnel was twisting.

_All he wanted was for them to love him. He wanted to be good._

His soul was ticking, every precious second falling away.

_All he wanted was for him to love him. He wanted to be good._

He couldn’t breathe.

_He wanted him to love him._

He couldn’t think.

_He wanted to love him._

There was too much noise.

_He wanted to love._

He wanted to sleep.

_He wanted love._

White.

.

.

.

.

.

.

And he came to with his hands around Alchemy’s throat.

The God looked shocked. He kicked his feet, but his movements were going limp. Error’s body was moving without his consent. Hatred was pooling at their feet and his mind was clouded with animalistic rage. All rational thought was gone. He just wanted to _**eliminate**_ the monster in front of him. And he was _excited_ at the thought of doing so.

Error’s feet were curled into the wall, keeping him upright while his sharpened fingers were on Alchemy’s throat. His other hands were on the God’s chest. There was already a torn hole in Alchemy’s shirt, the fabric ripped to shreds. Underneath, was his exposed ribcage, breathing heavily as he tried to fight of his attacker. Alchemy’s hands kept twitching, trying to summon spells into existence, but he couldn’t muster up the strength. No matter how hard he tried, nothing worked. There was no effect. 

But the Destroyer wasn’t looking at Alchemy. He didn’t care about the God’s struggle, his helplessness. He didn’t even have the interest to feel prideful that he singlehandedly had the most powerful deity in the multiverse pinned to the wall and unable to fight back.

No, he was staring at the God’s chest.

His _SOUL._

It beat wildly in his chest, surrounded by a nebula of stars. It was his core. His very being.

Error was deaf to all protests and insults. He just didn’t care. There was too strong of a smell luring him towards it, and every fiber of his being was telling him to rip that beating white heart out of the ribcage before him.

But the bones were blocking him. 

Hm.

He plunged a hand through Alchemy’s chest, shattering his sternum and ribs like a clay pot. 

The god screamed. Error had to admit, it sounded nice. He was tired of Alchemy’s stupid smug voice.

He reached his hand in, but the repulsion was intense, like the same ends of a magnet meeting. The soul was strong. He just had to try harder.

His five eyes narrowed in and concentrated on the heart as he pushed his hand in the chest again. It was so close. It was right there. Just a little more effort, and he would make it.

Just a few more seconds. He was running out of seconds to live. He couldn’t waste his seconds! His fingers were barely scraping it. He had to hurry. He had to kill him. He had to kill rainbow. He had to end-

With a pop, a wickedly sharp scythe swung down, barely missing Error’s arm by a hair’s breadth. 

Error wasn’t stupid – he knew when to run. He whined as he scurried away from Alchemy’s broken body and hissed, crouched on six limbs.

The soul had been right there! Right in front of him – and now it was so far away. He wanted to _kill this stranger for getting in the way of-_

The silver blade was pointed at him once again, and he disappeared.

\----------~*~*~----------

“Dad? Dad?!?”

“FATHER, PLEASE!”

Alchemy could barely hear the voices of his sons. Even without lungs, he wasn’t able breathe. Through hazy vision, he could just make out pieces of his own bones scattered by his feet.

His was grabbed by the shoulders and roused into consciousness to see the panicked face of his eldest. Papyrus stood next to him, looking on in horror.

“Dad… Oh stars what happened to you… oh my god dad…!”

“…I can’t stay here any longer…” he breathed weakly. “I’ve failed everyone. There is no more I can do. I…’m sorry…”

“W-WAIT FATHER, I-I-“

“Find Ink. Error… can’t have more than sev…en… m-minutes…l…eft… And Dream is in rift… rift number five…”

Alchemy slipped into unconsciousness, his mind thinking of nothing but all the thousands of people he let down.

\----------~*~*~----------

Ink sat down and pressed a button on his phone.

Music began to play, at maximum volume.

_~Take…my… hand…~_

_~Take my whole… life… too…~_

_~For I… can’t… help…~_

_~Falling in love..~_

_~With…~_

_~You…~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one will come to an end next chapter.


	15. Ticking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The countdown finishes. And everything is cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or in which the author spends an excess amount of time on the character's self reflection and uses an excessive amount of commas HHH
> 
> Anyways yeah I'm alive yey. Sorry if chapter are less frequent now school is kicking my ass. Like srsly - I had an exam in AP Bio that I studied for until midnight every night for the last week. If I don't get an A on that exam I'm running away from school and becoming a tiktok furry because education is meaningless and I'm stupid hyEEt
> 
> Anyways, um. This chapter is really edgy. Like,,,,, like every chapter. You kinda should be expecting this by now. hope I wrote this scene okay not to proud of it - feel like shitty word choice and excessive description HmmMMMM
> 
> But whatever. I present to you: The End Of Part One Of My Long Ass Bullshit Sans Undertale FanFiction

It didn’t take Ink long to find Error.

Or, should he say, for Error to find him. As the sounds of heavy breathing and whines drew closer, Ink didn’t move. Unlike everyone else in the building, he didn’t try to run away, or ready himself for combat. Instead, he remained sitting, and closed his eyes, listening to the music.

It was so beautiful, the way sounds could make a person feel – or he’d been told, at least. The major and minor chords came together beautifully in a display of the artist’s most inward emotions, something Ink was jealous of. He, the singer, seemed so saddened, yet hopeful and ready to sacrifice their life to their lover. The artist wanted to feel that strongly too.

He wanted to feel the complete desire and remorse he should have felt when he made all his mistakes – all his failures, that led up to this moment. This horrid moment. Where Error’s fate was resting solely in his hands.

The noises grew louder, and Ink remained still. He sat, ducked behind a small metal box, waiting for the monster to show. He ran through his options one final time, imagining all the possible outcomes from a meeting such as this.

It was going to be the first time Error had seen Ink since he had been brought down here to rot and perish like a dog no one wanted. How would Ink begin to apologize? He wouldn’t. He had a much better solution. One that resulted in a little bit of pain. But for a greater cause: keeping Error safe, which he would do anything to accomplish. In fact, another option he considered was to let Error rip him into shreds of stray bone until he melted into a puddle of ink. That would make Error happy, wouldn’t it? Ink had been the reason behind this, and a chance to finally kill Ink would probably make Error one of the happiest monsters alive, and he’d do _anything_ to see his Glitchy smile again.

…

Ink stood up and looked to his vials. The song gently ended. On his chest were bottles of happiness, surprise, remorse, and sadness, along with a few others. He took a few sips from each, corking the last one just in time to see a figure hunched over in the doorway; He was a shadow in the darkness, glowing a gorgeous shade of crimson.

The room was dimly lit, but Ink could still make out every detail of the advancing figure. He was… not expecting the things he saw. Four arms jerked and twitched, raking across his ribcage as if he were trying to free himself from his own body. Multiple eyes frantically rolled around in his skull as a dark liquid seeped from his joints in waves, dirtying the ground with residual hatred. Without so much as stopping for breath, Error began to scream at the walls, clutching his head and swaying where he stood, while a small ball of metal in front of his ribcage hovered innocently. The arms reached for it multiple times and scratched at it with the intensity and obvious fear of a bear with its foot in a steel trap. Giving up, Error roared and tore a hole in the nearest box, easily obliterating it.

It was a sign of how much hatred truly was lodged in his heart. A culmination of his loathing manifested into a physical form and taking over his brain, his thoughts. Unlike the others, Ink didn’t blanch in terror at the sight, but a pain in his chest, driven into existence from the vials, made him feel nauseous.

The only thing the artist focused on was the shock collar around Error’s neck, and the knot of chains winding themselves up with a small noise.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Ink stared at the clock, groaning. What to do, what to do?? Dream was busy, and Blue was on house arrest for sneaking off into Underlust, even though he’s clearly older than his brother. The two siblings had and interesting relationships with each other, and Ink was constantly surprised by their antics. A more recent example he just learned was that the two of them had both been aware of the Resets at a certain point, but kept it secret from each other for over a year because they didn’t know the other was aware._

_Ink always wondered what it would be like for him to experience a reset himself. If he had his own “home world” to go back to, so to speak. The artist thought about that quite often. He knew he had to have come from somewhere, but he didn’t quite know where. All he remembered was the crippling sense of loneliness, awakening in a void of white, and such an immense emptiness that it drove him to tear his own soul apart to escape._

_…_

_He sighed. For the next two hours, Ink laid star-fished across his bed, contemplating the unanswered questions the multiverse carried. One of his favorite things to think about was a question he had posed to Error. However, the glitch had a fairly one track mind and didn’t like concerning himself with anything that wasn’t the present._

_“Error, if every choice that happens in a universe branches out to make another universe, does that mean that every choice we make results in another multiverse?” Ink had asked._

_The question had only angered the glitch, filling up his mind with the possibility of more clutter in the multi-, no omniverse that he would have to clean up. It had been a very disturbing thought to someone like him, and his highly negative reaction made Ink almost regret asking him. Almost._

_Speaking of, Ink thought, cracking his bones - he wanted to check in with Error. His progress on befriending the glitch was going surprisingly well. The trick was not to tell Error of his intentions. Whenever Ink outright asked for friendship, he would almost always be turned down with a blaster to the head. But if Ink slowly made his advances without stating what he was doing, it was perfect! Error didn’t want to admit that he was becoming a “softie”, so there was an unspoken agreement that Ink not comment on Error’s behavior, lest the Destroyer left on a weeklong killing rampage solely to piss Ink off._

_Ink took his plushie self, woven from Error’s strings. The material was soft, yet sturdy and very difficult to break. He always admired the texture, as well as the beautiful gradient of blues that shone in the sunlight. Ink wasn’t sure how Error was able to change the colors of the strings like he did, dying Ink’s bones white and his clothes tan. He had even included the artists vials – a single bit of rainbow striped string woven across his torso. The Creator found his little smiling double to be the cutest thing he had ever seen._

_Without another second to waste, Ink teleported himself into Error’s void, scaring the poor glitch half to death._

_“What is WRONG with you, shithead??” Error screamed, shakily pulling himself off the ground._

_“Are you ready to practice?” Ink asked instead of responding. He sat himself criss-cross on the ground, with his head propped up on his palms, smiling giddily. “You know, I find it fun to scare you. It shows that you are capable of being vulnerable sometimes, even with all your intimidation and big talk.”_

_“…’s not big talk,” Error mumbled. “I do everything I say I will.”_

_“Oh really?” Ink contended, giving the Destroyer a coy grin. “You said waaaayy back when that you’d never stop hunting me down, and would kill me on sight if I ever showed my face. Well, it’s been almost fifty years, and I still look as healthy as ever!”_

_Error growled but sat down next to Ink regardless. “You drink glowstick juice like a fucking smoothie. Don’t tell me that you’re healthy.”_

_“For a being like me, that IS healthy. And besides, you can’t criticize me, racoon.”  
Error blinked at the nickname. “Racoon???”_

_“You eat garbage straight from the garbage can. I’ve WATCHED you root around in the dumpster and pop apple cores and tin cans in your mouth like a scrappy dog.”_

_A humiliated blush overtook the Destroyer’s cheeks and he scooted away from Ink angrily. “T-That’s my own personal decision to make! Fuck off!!”_

_“You’ll have to uphold your promise from fifty years ago and kill me for that to happen!!”_

_Their banter went on for a little while more, with Ink laughing hysterically and Error acting aggressive towards every word out of Ink’s mouth. But soon, the conversation began to calm down, and they began talking of more casual things. How each other’s lives are going, new clothes they made, and other bits of small talk._

_It was just the two of them, alone together in the barren void, their voices echoing off walls that didn’t exist. It was peaceful, and Ink began to feel at ease, even with the glare of countless souls held prisoner by the Destroyer’s threads._

_Error finally began to look more relaxed in Ink’s presence, so the artist decided to present the Destroyer with his original question again._

_“So… Are you ready to practice?”_

_Error was silent for a few moments, staring at the croqueted clone in the artist’s lap. The little face he had knitted was cheerful and bright, with a tint of red colored strings to represent Ink’s cheerful, rosy cheeks. He looked up, and there was a more detailed version of that same blushing face, waiting patiently for a response._

_“I… I guess so,” came the quiet response. Error felt his face heat as he scooched closer to Ink, coupled with immense anger for allowing himself to be this close to his enemy._

_The Destroyer gently extended his hand in Ink’s direction. The artist tilted his head to the side. “Aren’t you gonna use the-“_

_“No gloves.” Error refused to meet Ink’s eyes, burying his face into the soft scarf around his neck. “I-I just… no gloves.”_

_“…”_

_Error sat there, arm extended awkwardly. He cursed himself for agreeing to something like this, but curiously made no moves to stop what he knew was coming. His soul was racing. Ink hadn’t responded, and he was about to pull his arm back from shame when suddenly-_

_Ink touched their fingertips together. At first Error jolted and automatically drew back a little, but the second time, he didn’t move. With gentle, cautious movements, Ink slid his hand forward at a steady rate, bone brushing against bone. Neither took a breath – the situation was too delicate._

_And with shaking hands, finally, their fingers intertwined. Error was gently sobbing._

 

Error was screaming. His limbs jerked sporadically, and his bones were completely marred and scratched. His eyes were unfocused and crazed as he limped into the room, tears spilling down his cheeks. Glitches flew around his form, even affecting the world around him. He was a virus in the program, not supposed to be there. Every second felt like a year of perpetual torture to him, and Ink could see it very clearly. 

Is this what his Error had become? A malformed abomination of hatred, whose body was mutated beyond recognition? A lab rat gone feral? A tragic accident that needed to be euthanized? That’s what it seemed. Ink didn’t even know if there was a conscious thought in that dark skull anymore. He hadn’t even heard Error speak once, which was unusual for him. Even through this killing rampage, not one murder had been out of glee. No – he was suffering, and it was plain as day.

The artist bit back his tears from where he was hiding, behind a small box. He had stowed away in the lab’s storage room; Boxes were piled high and filled with mysterious contents. There was no time. No time to mourn or feel pity. Error’s fate was in his hands. He had developed something of a plan, one he hoped would work. If not?

…Well, then Ink could allow him to pass peacefully. If that was all he could do, then he would be happy to know that at least did something to set Error free.

Error made a noise akin to a wounded dog and leaned all his body weight against the metal wall. He summoned sharp-tipped attacks towards the ticking device but yielded no result. Even as he ruthlessly attacked his own soul, Ink could see that, from peeking around the corner of the box, that Error’s eyes were on everything but his own chest. The little orbs of light in his multiple sockets danced around anxiously and wavered in place as he backed against the wall. Error knew that someone was in there.

There was only so much time left before his soul would be punctured.

And there was only so much Ink could do.

So, Ink stood up. 

As he walked in Error’s line of sight, the screams suddenly fell silent.

The Destroyer’s eyes went wide as they saw the one person that kept them conscious throughout this whole ordeal. Every sleep, their face would plague his dreams, to the point where his subconscious thought of them was the only thing that kept him company, and the memory of gloves and crayons was the only thing keeping him warm in a world of cold hearts and cold steel.

But now, the creator offered him no comfort. His once buried memories had resurfaced, and even though thinking only made his head hurt worse, he could still pick out his last memories of Ink. And none of them were good.

All five eyes narrowed as Error backed himself towards the wall in fear. He growled lowly, his pupils heavily contracted. He scratched against the metal and his feet kept turning in cycles, but he couldn’t get away. 

Ink smiled softly and bent his knees. “Hi, Ruru…” He spoke gently, his voice filled with cheer and warmth like there wasn’t a trouble in the world. Error just backed himself up further and made an array of incomprehensible noises. Ink only softened his facial expression and tilted his head.

“Oh yeah? Are you saying something?” Ink advanced another step, resulting in a scream from Error, whose arms started shaking out of fear and rising rage. The artist pretended not to notice. He wasn’t sure if Error believed the words coming out of his mouth, or if he was simply unable to comprehend them with everything else going on at the same time. Regardless, he kept up his soothing tone, advancing closer. “I missed you. I missed you so so much, Error. I felt so lonely. But I’m here now. I’m here.”

Error hissed in return, scratching at the wall, and the creator didn’t blame him. It was all Ink’s fault, in the end.

Red was bleeding onto the ground so profusely it looked like Error was melting. Was… was Error so panicked that he didn’t remember he could teleport? His absolute terror and helplessness were starting to pick at Ink’s stomach and send butterflies up to his throat.

With strained speech and smile, Ink took another step closer, now a mere foot away from the spazzing creature below him. “I want you to calm down, okay? Deep breaths for me. I won’t hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you. Shhhhh…”

Now that he was close, the artist could see Error’s face in greater detail. His features were so twisted with horrible concoctions of hatred and utter fear that it was hard to tell what his next move would be. His three extra eyes, slightly smaller than the two proportionally accurate ones, moved unattached to one another, darting around and practically pulsating with rectangles of code. Error’s teeth had elongated too, into a maw of needles. His normal teeth weren’t actually gone however, just engulfed by the hatred which extended to replace the flat teeth into rows of fangs.

It was, to Ink, terrifying.

The artist tilted his head, keeping himself from crying. “I know things are all bad right now, glitchy. I know the way it happened was bad, too. But you don’t need to kill anyone else. Listen to me when I say. I lo-“

Ink didn’t get to finish. He was suddenly pounced upon so quickly the force of the impact created a nasty crack in his sternum, paired with an injury of similar form on his spinal cord when his back abruptly slammed into the wall. Without so much as the ability to take a breath, Ink’s shirt was once again grabbed by four hands, sharpened with severe blood lust. The vials in their glass vials cracked with the second slam, and soon Ink was bleeding a rainbow of color down his chest.

Partially from a rapidly formulated plan, and partially from pure shock, Ink didn’t move. He hung his head, slumped against the wall, with his arms dropped to the ground, like a marionette with cut strings. What looked like neon rainbows sopped into the fabric of his clothes and pooled onto the floor, the glass vials emptying their contents.

For a moment, Error became intrigued. He paused his attacks to lean onto all four hands. He seemed to be fascinated with the strange colors and gently lowered his head, sniffing at the substances. It was as if Ink wasn’t any sort of priority anymore. But a few seconds of recuperation did Ink well.

With movements faster than what is humanly possible, he leapt to his feet, knocking Error backwards and flipping off the wall before lunging into the glitch's chest, his brush in his hands. His front was soaked in colors, but he paid no mind. Thoughts was swimming while the handle of the brush was pressed into Error’s ribcage to keep him still. Error howled and cried, tearing splinters into the wood from where he could reach. Ink kept a hollow expression as he summoned ink, flowing and undulating in midair behind him. Both splotches glued themselves to the wall, taking Error’s forearms with them. Layer after layer of ink was adhered to his torso and legs, so no matter how fiercely Error squirmed and mashed, he had no way of reaching the artist, or even moving for that matter.

Dissolving into raw panic, tears began flowing from every socket, and he began snapping at Ink with his teeth. Behind the screams, there was another sound that caught Ink’s interest. And it was speeding up.

Tick. Tick.

Tick. Tick.

Tick. Tick.

He was running out of time.

Once he was sure that Error was completely immobile, he slowly released the pressure on the glitch’s chest, casting the brush aside, where it clattered on the ground. Error kept on writhing and foaming, but the inky black prison was held together too thickly to break free. He howled and shook but couldn’t escape. Ink once again pondered why Error didn’t shortcut away. It was clear he could do that from his previous encounter, but then the Creator felt liquid dripping onto his hands and soon put the pieces together.

In front of him was the floating knot of metal, looped and twisted into intricate shapes and almost obscuring its contents from sight. However, Ink still had a visual of needle-like bits pressed into his soul, like an injection they never took out. Other shards were coiled back and waiting to strike at the pitifully beating heart. With every throb, fluid was leaking through the cracks and crevices of the contraption and dripping onto the rugged tennis shoes Ink wore on his feet, the laces still stained with black remnant from earlier that night.

Error’s twitches were more from anguish rather than rage. Nonsensical noises kept erupting from his throat.

Tick tick tick tick tick.

With trembling hands, Ink reached for the bound soul and cupped his palms around it, trying to keep the tears in his eyes from blurring his vision. He ever so gently turned it over, feeling the warmth of the soul behind the metal slowly growing colder. Its own version of bleeding to death.

Ink spotted what could have been a potential opening in the metal. But when he touched it, Error screamed louder and rage rewrote itself on his features. He doubled his efforts at escape, hardly acknowledging his weakened state, and only hurting himself more in the process.

“Error stop! Stop stop stop Error please,” Ink begged, putting a hand on Error’s chest to keep him from exhausting what little he had. He put on a reassuring smile and cupped the Destroyer’s cheek with a free hand. “I want you to look at me okay? Just look at me, look at me.”

He repeated this over and over again, his tone soft and loving until Error began to calm. Of course, the tremors never stilled and his eyes had no control, but as soon as he stopped fighting back, Ink started to work on the soul again. His fingers wandered across the metal and he turned it over thoughtfully in his hands, like a 3D puzzle. A protrusion of metal from one of the chromium ropes caught his attention, looking like a screw that wasn’t twisted all the way into his proper mood. Desperate to find anything that could help him unwind the machine, he tugged on it.

Another spike shot out prematurely, stabbing yet another hole into the frail heart, and the amount of dripping liquid suddenly doubled. Error’s whole body shuddered harshly and with a tortured cry, he broke an arm free and swiped at Ink. Too busy trying to process his mistake, Ink had no time to dodge as claws were raked across his cheek. Ink hissed as the wound began to sting with contact to the open air. Regardless, he kept smiling, sweating as the countdown grew more prominent.

Tickticktickticktickticktick-

If he didn’t undo the heinous machine in what he assumed was the next minute and a half, Error would almost certainly die, but if he kept prying at it – Well, the device’s captive might have a chance at survival. But he could tell that the more he prodded at the soul, the more torture it was for Error, and the easier he was to be sent into a frenzy, regardless of his condition. Ink came to a decision, reaching carefully into his back pocket.

He hushed gently, wearing a warm expression. With a touch gentler than an alighting butterfly, he gently ran a knuckle along Error’s cheek. The glitch didn’t respond. Ink tried to swallow back his tears, but a few traitorously fell down his cheeks. “This is their doing, okay? This isn’t you – they wouldn’t have done this if they knew how much of a sweetheart you are…”

“We’re gonna do something, okay? I want you to look at me – no, stop fidgeting –“ Error started whining and shaking again, but Ink shushed him back into serenity. Or at least, what outwardly appeared to be serenity. He wasn’t fighting his restraints anymore, only because he was growing weaker and weaker by the second. But he wasn’t any less crazed. Behind his eyes was a boiling rage.

The clock kept ticking, even faster now. Ink let go of the soul, leaving it to float in front of him. Ink touched his palm to Error’s cheek again, slowly sliding the hand down to the bottom of his chin. The glitch’s reaction to the touches were not hostile, but more curious than anything. Ink’s other hand was still behind his back, concealing what he held.

With slow movements, Ink gently curled his fingers, flexing them back and forth across the bone. Error’s heavy panting began to quell, and two of his eyes gently shut. Ink gave a beaming grin, continuing to scratch him under his chin. “There we go… that’s your favorite spot, isn’t it? Heh, I knew you’d at least react to that.”

Error still heaved in pain, twitching and whimpering with heart wrenching helplessness. It was clear – he no longer had any energy left to fight. Ink tried to touch the soul again, but it only resulted in a yelp of hurt, the heart sore and sensitive, resulting in a cascade of tears from the bound monster. He struggled and turned his head frantically, trying to turn away. To run away. But he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, and his arms were slowly shedding dust.

Ink noticed this and shuddered, an a horrific realization came over him. Every second was precious. Every second he had could very well be his last moments with Error. 

So using every second to his advantage, Ink redrew his hand, and trailed it down his neck, across his collarbone, along his arm, and finally, to his hand. He was aware of Error’s typical haphephobia, but this wasn’t typical Error. This was Error who hadn’t been treated humanely a day for the last month. Error who had the mind and impulses of a child, and whose every breath was a laborious struggle. Knowing this, Ink was gentle, murmuring reassurances, such as things one would typically recount to a crying infant.

“Shhhh…. Shhh baby shhh….” Ink whispered. “Don’t cry Ruru, don’t cry. I’m right here. I won’t leave you. Do you want to go back home? We will cuddle on the bed and watch some movies… and I’ll make us some snacks to eat. We’ll be wrapped in those big fluffy blankets you love, and it’ll be just us…”

Behind his back, Ink fiddled with a dial, twisting it as high as the knob would allow. The ticking was deafening now, and the recoiling of spring locks was audible. Ink kept talking, but it was rushed. “Just you and me, Error, just you and me… and you can show me how to sew, too! Haven’t you always wanted to do that, love?”

As expected, Error didn’t respond, his head hanging low. Only low grunts escaped his teeth, accompanied by the soft, delirious babble of consonants. Ink hummed in response, as if Error had said something profound. Ink sucked in a breath…

And reached for Error’s hand.

TICTICTICTICTICTICTIC!

His fingers entwined with The Destroyer’s. And slowly, ever so slowly, with movements so unnatural and strained, Error returned the gesture. His fingers were sharper, and his palm was grainy with dust, both his own and other’s. 

Error opened his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“…Ck…n…oh…” he choked out. Ink’s heart clenched.

He was out of time.

“Look how far you’ve come. You don’t even need gloves anymore…” Ink said softly. “Error?”

“…n…”

Ink didn’t wait for him to finish. He leaned forward, giving the monster a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, Error. I really, really do.”

Ink hit the button and activated the shock collar.

The blue orb on the collar grew so brightly it blinded Ink momentarily, as visible arcs of electricity were shot throughout Error’s entire nervous system. The Destroyer gave a broken shriek of terror, shattering every bit of glass in the room, voice box ripped into shreds as his arms and legs were forced through fire, killing every last ounce of strength he had. The inky web holding the Error to the wall melted, and he collapsed like a broken vase, crumbling when he hit the floor. He was out in half a second.

Ink didn’t even remember falling to his knees, but there he was. He scrambled over to Error and rolled him onto his back. The collar was fried, the metal burnt and twisted. Ink ripped it off with incredible strength.

Error’s head was holding onto his neck by a thread, the bone whittled down into the thickness of a toothpick. His eyelights were burnt out, and all five of his sockets were bleeding. Where three other eyes had previous made their home now were empty – three giant, ugly holes in his forehead, the cracks running all the way to the top of his skull

But Ink wasn’t looking at Error’s face - only at his soul.

Now that he was knocked out, he had a chance to save him. He had a CHANCE HE HAD A CHANCE-

He tugged at the metal furiously, digging his fingers under every groove he could reach

_Ten_

_Nine_

The heart wasn’t beating anymore.

_Eight_

_Seven_

Nothing was coming undone, and Ink was only chipping his fingers

_Six_

_Five_

Error’s fingers were disappearing into dust.

_Four_

_Three_

_Two_

He couldn’t get it off. He couldn’t gET IT OFF GET IT OFF IT WASN’T COMING OFF

_One_

_**GET IT OFF COME OFF HE CAN’T DIE COME OFF-!** _

_Zero._

**BEEBEEP!!**

 

 

 

 

Error’s soul was pierced from every angle. Shards of metal dug deep into the supple shell, cracking it with an explosion of liquid. The sickening noise of metal meeting the shriveled heart resounded. Error didn’t even move upon the impact. He was too far gone.

Ink found that not a single thought came to his mind. His head was empty.

He simply sat himself down onto the floor with robotic movements, eyes blank. 

With leisurely and unrushed movements, he laid his head down, and curled into Error’s cold, dead embrace.

He pressed his skull into the ribcage. His muddled mind warped what he perceived as reality, and soon they were both bed, and the cold, dark lab was nothing but a mere nightmare. 

Ink was in a sleep shirt and Error wore nothing but shorts, arms around each other as sunlight streamed through the curtains. Error’s ribcage rose and fell with every breath he took, and Ink nestled himself further into the warm bones, not wanting to wake up. He looked up into Error’s eyes, watching the Destroyer tranquil expression, hugging Ink to his chest like a teddy bear. The artist didn’t want to get out of bed just yet.

Error shifted, and Ink’s mismatched eyes swirled as a rainbow-colored blush misted across his cheeks. The glitch looked down at him, smirking in adoration. 

“Wake up sleepyhead, don’t you have a meeting today?” He hummed.

But Ink didn’t want to get out of bed.

Error nudged him again. “Come on, Inky… you don’t want to be late do you?”

“Wake up,” Error said.

“Wake up.”

“Wake up.”

“Please…. Wake up.”

“Wake up Error…”

“Please… wake up Error… I’ll make breakfast this time, okay? J-Just.. You need to wake up… I don't want to get out of bed...”

The illusion had felt so real, fueled by his memories. Ink spoke into the empty air, his voice barely more than a breath. Error’s ribcage was cold, and unmoving. Dead. There was no warmth in his eyes, just empty sockets, in a hollow skull. The cold floor stung his bones, but he cuddled closer into Error’s chest, whispering promises he had already broken to his love.

“Y…you’ve been such a sleepy head… lately… Error… please…”

Ink didn’t react when a shadow slowly loomed over them. When he caught what looked like an octopus out of his peripheral vision, he didn’t move. He just clung to Error’s chest, refusing to let go. Even though Error had already left.

"Come back... I just... just got you..."

He didn’t react when the amorphous blob, dotted with hundreds of eyes all over its body and open, slobbering maws watched them with cruel amusement. He didn’t move, only watched as the ugly amalgamation circled the two of them, laughing out of one of its many mouths. 

He didn’t try to run when the creature propped itself up onto slimy tentacles and used its long, slender body to strike. It gracefully jabbed its head forward, grabbing the soul and its metal casing in its teeth and scurrying off, shrinking as it snaked away.

It crawled into the vents, leaving a trail of slime.

Ink didn’t care. The soul was dust, anyways. Error was dust, anyways.

At least Ink got to grant him a peaceful sleep And Ink would stay next to him until he was truly gone. 

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

He didn’t know how long he had been laying by Error’s side. Maybe a few hours, he suspected? Time wasn’t passing normally to him anymore. 

…

…

…

…

…

It takes stronger monsters a long time for their souls to dissolve, and their bodies too. Error’s extra arms had already become a pool of dust on the floor, and his legs were slowly fading. Ink began to hum a song to him, sitting up and taking the broken body in his arms, careful not to snap his neck. It was hanging on by a few tendons.

…

…

…

…

...

...

Ink closed his eyes, and kissed Error's forehead. He had had such a long day. Maybe they should both go home, and Ink would tuck Error into bed, where he could peacefully sleep, rather than on the cold floor like this.

...

...

...

...

Ink had closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep next to Error.

 

 

And then Error started to breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy HSiT biTCh He fuCKIng BR E ATHING (100% Real)(Not Clickbait)
> 
> He doin breathing. "But how?" you ask.
> 
> Well shuddup bc i haven't revealed that yet.
> 
> Anyways Hoped you liked Garbage. Smash that Liek button and subscrib. Also follow me on discord im new and in need of friends  
> OpirlTcoti#6473
> 
> hh.


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